To Make You Feel My Love
by Comfster
Summary: Puck has been given a specific mission: to get Kurt to come back to McKinley. Only, the more time he spends with Kurt, the more he wants something else from Kurt—a relationship. Purt slash.
1. The Mission

**Disclaimer: **Glee's not mine, unfortunately.

**Pairing: **Puckurt…whatever it's called; Puck/Kurt.

**Summary: **Puck has been given a specific mission: to get Kurt to come back to McKinley. Only, the more time he spends with Kurt, the more he wants something else from Kurt—a relationship. Puckurt slash.

**Notes: **This is rated M for later chapters (when all the delicious slash starts), and before this fic takes place, Puck's already got feelings for Kurt that he's pretty confused about. This was inspired by Adele's cover of Bob Dylan's song "To Make You Feel My Love," which will be used later in the fic.

* * *

_**To Make You Feel My Love**_

_**

* * *

**_

He didn't understand. He never really noticed Kurt _that much_ before, you know, except when he was getting bullied and Puck had to tell Karofsky off for being a dickwad personally. But now that Kurt was gone, he couldn't help thinking of what kinds of things Kurt was getting himself into at Dalton Academy with the Garglers.

Did Kurt like them better? Clearly if he did, it was only because they were all flamers and none of the glee clubbers were;_ especially_ not Puck, right? Right. Maybe the more Puck told himself that, the more he'd start to believe it.

Really, Puck was an equal opportunity boner. He didn't really care who he was with as long as he was getting his mack on, and he couldn't help thinking that Kurt _did _look good in all his little outfits.

_Stop thinking about gay stuff, Puck, _he told himself. This wasn't about trying to _get with _Kurt; it was about trying to get him back to McKinley. He needed to do it for glee club. Didn't he? Yeah, it totally wasn't for himself.

Puck yanked his phone out of his pocket, found Kurt's number in his contact list, and under his desk typed out a nice little text message that said: "_Hey Kurt_."

Maybe he was only suave with the ladies…

He checked three times that his phone was on silent before he gently placed it down on his desk, staring at the screen for a message to pop up from Kurt. It was a whole _two minutes _before he got a response back: "_Who's this_?"

Puck rolled his eyes. "_It's the Puckster_." Really, didn't Kurt have his number saved into his phone? Puck had Kurt's number saved into _his_ phone. Oh shit, was that lame that he had Kurt's number, but Kurt didn't have Puck's? He immediately started to have an inward panic attack.

"_Dear lord, what do you want_?" was Kurt's response.

"_When are you coming back_?" Puck typed out, using proper grammar and spelling. Normally he didn't bother with such a tedious thing, but he knew that Kurt would flat out stop responding to him if he didn't use English.

His phone lit up with a new message that read: "_I'm not coming back, Puckerman_."

"_Why the hell not_?" Puck typed back with lightning fingers.

Another three minutes and his phone lit up again. "_Because Puck, I was bullied at McKinley. I don't know if you've forgotten, but once upon a time, you were part of my bullying and harassment. Here at Dalton, I am finally accepted for being gay. And also, my parents already paid for my tuition_."

Puck was already one step ahead of Kurt. "_We could have another bake sale to pay your folks back. I can easily score some more pot_."

"_Even if you could pay my parents back, I'd still be bullied, Puck_."

Dammit, this was proving to be harder than he thought it would be. "_I'll just follow you around school. I'll be like your own personal bodyguard. It'll be perfect. Nobody will dare bother you with me at your side, including Karofsky_."

Five minutes later, "_As compelling as that sounds, people will still talk, and as soon as the rumors circulate you'll head for the hills_."

That was probably true, but Puck didn't dare admit to that at a time like this. "_C'mon, Kurt, I'll suck your cock_."

Puck was certain that he'd get Kurt back with that; no one would turn down a blowy from his expert mouth.

Thirty minutes later, and Puck still had no response from Kurt. He finally buckled and texted, "_So, uh, is that a no_?"

"_Obviously_."

Well, there was always tomorrow.

##

Mr. Schuester cornered him right after rehearsal. "How's it coming along?" he asked, leaning in a little closer to Puck so that the other students wouldn't hear. "You know, with getting Kurt back?"

Puck sighed and ran his hand through his mohawk. "Not too good; he said no."

"You're not giving up now, are you?" Mr. Schue asked sounding a little panicked. They _needed_ Kurt back if they wanted to win Regionals. Their team just wasn't as strong without him as it was with him, and morale was low.

"Hell no, I'm no quitter," Puck said. "But nothing is working. I told him about paying back his parents, told him that I'd have his back whenever Karofsky or any of the other punks came round. I even tried to come onto him."

As much as Mr. Schue did not want to hear that last bit, he had to admit that it was a fairly good tactic. Kurt was gay, and Puck was, well, _sort of _charming if you were into the whole bad boy scene. They could use this to their advantage. "How'd you try to come onto him?"

Puck smirked. "Oh, you know, abruptly. It's how I get all the ladies. Why? You need some pointers?"

Mr. Schue rolled his eyes. "That is not going to work with Kurt," he said, feeling really awful about actually going through with this; actually telling Puck how to carry out the deed. It was the whole scenario with Finn and the pot all over again, only ten times worse since Kurt's heart—a fragile thing indeed—was involved. But somehow Mr. Schue got the impression that Puck actually had some kind of feelings for Kurt _deep _down, otherwise, why would he even go through with this in the first place? It would put his reputation on the line if they succeeded, and that didn't seem to bother Puck at all.

"With Kurt, you're going to have to take your time," Mr. Schue continued, hating himself more and more by the second for doing this. "He's not like some of the girls you've been with. He wants romance, and that means you're going to have to be a gentleman with him; win him over even when he plays hard-to-get." Mr. Schue thought about what all he was saying, then slowly sat down in his seat. "This isn't going to work."

"Sure it is," Puck said proudly. "I can do the gentleman thing no doubt. But uh…" his voice trailed as he came up with a brilliant plan.

"But what?" Mr. Schue asked suspiciously.

"Well," Puck started, trying to tap into his inner schemer. "Gentlemen take their dates out to dinner. I'm kind of broke at the moment, so, you think you could score me dinner for two at Breadstix?" When Mr. Schue didn't appear too convinced, Puck quickly added, "Treating Kurt to a _romantic_ dinner might help bring him back."

Mr. Schue considered Puck's proposal for a moment before he finally tossed his hands up. "Fine, I'll give you money for dinner," he told Puck as he gathered up his things to head back to his office. "Just make sure you manage to bring Kurt back."

##

He was in his room and actually trying to do his pointless geometry homework, but he couldn't get Kurt out of his head. Planning out a date with him with Mr. Schue earlier that day actually started to make him wonder what it would be like to date Kurt, or hell, to date _someone_—a _dude_. He had never really been the dating kind, but seeing all the happy couples in glee club certainly made him think about what it might be like.

If he was actually _with_ Kurt, then his reputation was basically over. But maybe it wouldn't actually be that way? His mohawk was back and everyone was afraid of him. Only the football players seemed to have a problem with Kurt, but if Puck changed their mind then maybe they would be the new "it" couple—the kings of McKinley, rulers of the school.

Puck also couldn't help but think that Kurt was probably an awesome kisser. His lips were plump and soft and probably never kissed properly. With a little bit of practice, he'd definitely be fantastic at giving head, and Puck was always up for a little sucky-sucky.

And really, Kurt wasn't all that different from a girl, was he? He sang like a girl, sometimes wore girls' clothes, and was just as pretty as a girl…was it okay for him to think that?

When Kurt sang he was always captivated. If Mr. Schue let him, he could be just as much of a star as Rachel was. He had her range, and he could definitely win over an audience…

Suddenly, Puck had another fantastic idea. He grabbed his phone off his bedside table and quickly dialed a number.

"Hello?"

"Mr. Schue?" Puck asked, hoping he didn't call the wrong person.

There was a pause, then, "Puck? How did you get my number?"

"Nevermind about that, listen," Puck said excitedly. "If you want Kurt to really come back, you have to let him sing Defying Gravity…"

"Okay?"

"At Regionals," Puck added.

"Uh, Puck, I don't think that's a very good idea. You know what happened last time," Mr. Schue said on the other end.

"Last time Kurt threw the competition so he _would_ lose," Puck explained quickly. "He can sing that song perfectly, I heard him rehearse it before the diva-off."

"But Rachel—"

"—Will have a cow, but then she will get over it," Puck said. "Look, I am sacrificing a lot for this, and you just got to do this one little thing."

Another pause. "Fine, but I've got to hear it a few times before I completely commit to it, and it's got to be perfect."

"Cool, thanks Mr. Schue," Puck said, grinning widely. "By the way, I am going to need that money tomorrow, hopefully."

##

Geometry class was only good for texting Kurt. Not only did that seem to be a time when Kurt was actually free to answer his texts, but also Puck's teacher was always too oblivious to know he was typing away on his cell phone instead of paying attention to the lesson plan.

He started off the conversation with his usual: "_Hey Kurt_."

And then got another usual: "_What do you want this time, Puckerman_?"

"_You free tonight_?" Puck typed and clicked the "send" button. There was no backing out now. It was only full steam ahead from here on out.

"_Why_?" Kurt's texts were coming faster and faster.

Why? Was Kurt really that thick? "_I wanna take you out tonight. Breadstix_."

Thirty seconds and Puck got an, "_Excuse me_?"

"_I. Wanna. Take. You. Out. Tonight. Breadstix_."

Forty-five seconds. "_I can read, you smartass. Why the hell do you want to take me out_?"

"_Because I haven't seen you in a while and Breadstix is the shit_," Puck responded. He didn't understand why Kurt was asking all of these silly questions instead of telling Puck to pick him up at six o'clock or something.

"_If this is about persuading me to come back, it is not going to work_."

Puck lied and typed, "_It's not about that_."

"_I don't understand. Why do you want to see me_?"

Maybe this was a good time to be brutally honest and heartfelt? He only hoped it'd work. "_Because I miss you, alright_?"

Kurt's response didn't come nearly as fast this time; Puck's phone didn't light up for five whole minutes. "_But I'm over an hour away_."

"_Good thing I just got gas_." Fuck…that came out a bit wrong and certainly didn't sound all that romantic. He quickly added, "_In my car, you know. So, what do you say_?"

Two minutes and he got a, "_Fine, pick me up at five_."

Puck wanted to tell Kurt how he was about to have the time of his life, but he wasn't sure if Kurt was turned on by obscene amounts of confidence.

If he had to guess, Puck would say probably not.


	2. Turned Down

**Notes: **Thanks for all of the positive comments! I really appreciate it and love hearing from you! Anyway, this was supposed to be a one-shot, but then it got to 12,000 words, and I thought it was probably best to be a chapter fic. The pro about that is that I already have about five to seven chapters mostly written! The con is the mostly part—I feel like I need to add a bit more otherwise the chapters will be super short.

So, because of that, I am actually going to have Blaine in this fic, which is not something I intended on in the beginning. He makes his first appearance in this chapter, but this _will not _be a Klaine fic, even though I love Klaine. I just wanted to point that out.

By the way, for future reference:

Texts are in quotation marks with italics "_like this_."

Song lyrics are just in italics, and phone conversations are just in quotation marks.

Enjoy!

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_**Chapter Two – **__Turned Down_

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_

He sat down at an empty table in the common room and pulled out his colossal geography textbook. Kurt hadn't even been attending Dalton for a whole week, and already his teacher plowed through five chapters. It was extremely difficult to keep up with.

"Studying again?" a pleasant voice asked from somewhere above him, and when Kurt looked up, his eyes met Blaine's and he smiled.

Kurt laughed nervously. "Yes, I'm not really used to covering multiple chapters in one class per day," he explained, putting today's date in the upper right hand corner.

"You'll get used to it soon enough, I promise," Blaine told him softly as he pulled out a chair and sat down beside Kurt, clasping his hands together in front of him thoughtfully. "Say, do you have any plans for tonight? Because if you don't, then I have something fun planned for the both of us."

He hadn't realized his mouth was hanging open until his tongue started to go dry. "Uh, tonight?" he asked, and when Blaine nodded, Kurt's face fell a little. "I actually already have plans for tonight."

Blaine scooted a little closer to him. "What kinds of plans?"

"I am supposed to see a friend of mine tonight," Kurt explained, looking slowly up into Blaine's eyes. "A friend from McKinley."

"Oh," Blaine said, releasing a long sigh. "I understand. Maybe some other time, then?" he asked, placing a hand on Kurt's shoulder and giving it a squeeze.

Kurt nodded sadly, staring down at his textbook, but not really _seeing_ anything that was in front of him. He was so torn; he enjoyed being around Blaine, but he had already made plans with Puck, who was his friend…kinda. What he wanted to do and what he ought to do were two different things.

Blaine flashed him one last smile before he got up from the table. Just as he was about to walk out of the common room, Kurt bolted up from the table and hurried after him.

"Wait, Blaine!" he said, tapping him on the shoulder. "Hanging out tonight sounds great."

"What about your plans with your friend?" Blaine asked, sounding confused.

Kurt shrugged. "He was probably joking about wanting to see me tonight anyway."

Blaine still looked perplexed, but he did not pursue the matter further. "Great, how's meeting here at half past five?"

"Sounds good," Kurt said, waving goodbye to Blaine before he pulled out his cell phone.

##

Puck's phone lit up with a text from Kurt: "_Are you available to talk_?"

"_Yeah, what's up? Want me to come over earlier_?" Puck texted back, and was pretty confident about what Kurt's answer was going to be.

"_About that—I actually don't think I can make it tonight_."

"_What_?" Puck texted back, not knowing what else to say. This had to be some kind of joke. No one turned down the Puckster.

A minute and a half later, Puck got a text reading: "_I have Warbler rehearsal tonight that I completely forgot about. I'm sorry_."

Puck rolled his eyes. _"When's rehearsal? I'll get you afterwards_."

"_We usually rehearse for several hours, so it'll probably be best to go a different night. I'm really sorry_," Kurt responded.

"_Just ditch it. You're new. You can just say you got lost._"

"_They'd know I was lying_."

For some reason, he had a gut feeling that Kurt didn't really have rehearsal, and this was just a cover-up. But he didn't know what to say or how to say it. He must have taken too long to respond, because a couple minutes later he got another text from Kurt, reading: "_I am really sorry, Puck. I totally forgot all about it_."

He really wanted to believe Kurt, but he just didn't. Maybe Puck had that female thing—what was it called—_intuition_? "_Are you sure it's tonight and not some other night_."

"_Yeah, positive._"

"_Well, let me know when you wanna reschedule, I guess_," Puck responded, trying hard not to sound too let down over text. That would be really lame of him, and he didn't want Kurt thinking he was a sissy.

"_How about this weekend_?" Kurt asked.

Puck sighed. "_Yeah, alright; have fun with your new club_."

"_Thanks, and again, I'm sorry_," Kurt texted back.

##

Puck was going to get to the bottom of this. He was pretty sure that Kurt was lying to him, but since he refused to come clean, Puck decided to take matters into his own hands.

"Dalton Academy, how may I direct your call?" a cool, female voice sounded on the other line.

The back of his throat tensed up so that his voice deepened. "Hi there, this is Burt Hummel, and my son goes to your school," Puck said, not sounding a thing like Kurt's dad, but he doubted the receptionist would even notice. "May I be connected with whoever heads the Warblers?"

"The Warblers are student-run, Mr. Hummel, but I will be glad to connect you with one of the student leads," the receptionist offered.

"Thanks," Puck said, nearly barking into the phone.

Really lame elevator music played on the other end for the entire five minutes that Puck was on hold. It was nearly painful. Finally, when Puck was about to hang up, someone answered. "Hello, this is Wes, upperclassman lead to the Warblers."

Wow, was this guy full of himself or what?

"Yeah, hi, I am Burt Hummel and I was just calling to confirm the rehearsal that my son has with the Warblers tonight," Puck said, thinking that that probably sounded a little suspicious, so he quickly added, "I need to bring something by for Kurt, and I don't want to stop by when he's busy rehearsing, you see."

There was an uncomfortable pause on the other end. "Uh, sir, you must have been misinformed," Wes said politely. "The Warblers don't have rehearsal tonight, and also, your son is not yet a Warbler. His audition is scheduled to take place in two days from now if you'd like to attend."

"Is that so?" Puck asked in his normal voice, forgetting he was supposed to sound twice his age. "I mean, uh, thanks for your help, man."

He didn't bother hearing what else that Wes tool had to say; Puck hung up immediately, grabbed his car keys and stormed out of his house. His mother yelled after him, asking where he was going, but Puck ignored her. She probably just wanted him to babysit for his sister again, anyway.

##

He was furious, and he probably had no right to be. Once upon a time, Puck was awful to Kurt; tossing him in the dumpster despite wearing new fashion collections and splashing slushies in his face. But somehow this seemed so much worse to him. Puck was trying to be the good guy—all in order to get Kurt back to glee club, of course, _nothing else_—and not only did Kurt blow him off, but he also lied to him, and that just was not cool.

What if Kurt decided to spend the night with some other guy instead of Puck? That would really piss Puck off. And make him jealous, and Puck was jealous over _no one_. Maybe Kurt just needed to study or unpack his stuff or something pointless like that. Yeah, that was totally it. It wouldn't be another guy.

Once he was on Dalton's campus, everyone stared at him. Puck was dressed in ripped, fitted jeans, a tight white V-neck shirt, and a leather jacket—not quite like Dalton Academy uniforms that surrounded him. The building that he was in was huge; he had no idea where to go and didn't see a directory like the kind that they have in the malls in sight.

He decided not to ask for help; he wanted to find Kurt on his own even if that meant having to search for him for hours. Puck checked the common room, the cafeteria, and the library, but Kurt was not at any of those places. He peaked into the faculty offices and what appeared to be the music room—empty. Puck was about to go upstairs to try and find Kurt's dorm room when he heard a familiar laugh from a darkened corridor.

Puck's eyes narrowed as he pressed his body against the wall and crept down the hallway towards where he was sure he'd find Kurt. A couple feet down, and behold, there was Kurt, sitting incredibly close to a dark haired student, their fingers slightly entwined, looking like they wanted to hold hands, but still not quite doing it.

His blood boiled and he stood out from the darkness of the shadows. "Hey buddy," Puck said sarcastically, half-smirking when he heard Kurt yelp. "My, what a strange way to have _Warblers rehearsal_, don't you think?" Puck asked, nodding towards Blaine.

Blaine glanced back and forth between Kurt and Puck before he clapped his thighs and got up from the bench that he and Kurt were seated at. "I should go," Blaine said, inclining his head at Puck. "See you later, Kurt."

Kurt waited until Blaine turned the corner, and then leapt up from the bench. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I knew you were lying to me," Puck said, balling his hands into fists in his pockets.

Kurt sighed and rolled his eyes. "Yeah, so I shouldn't have lied to you," he said, putting his hands on his hips. "But so what if I want to spend some time with a guy who I _like _and who might like me back?" He grabbed his bag and placed it over his shoulder. "Besides, I am sure you were just lying about dinner anyway."

"Actually," Puck said, following after Kurt when he started to walk away. "I _wanted _to go to dinner with you. I had it all planned out. It wasn't a lie."

"Well, you still haven't told me why," Kurt said, stopping in the hallway to yell at Puck some more. "And don't give me that, 'Yes, I did, I told you I miss you!' because I don't buy it. Unless you miss throwing me into dumpsters or drenching me in slushies, then I doubt you miss me at all. We aren't even _friends; _we were just in glee together, and then you drive all the way out here, embarrassing me in front of Blaine just because I hurt your pride? You don't _own _me, Puck, and I don't _need_ you. I refuse to let you treat me like you treat everyone else."

Puck really wanted to punch something right now, or scream—anything to release some anger. "Well, let me ask you something, Kurt," Puck said, stepping in front of him to look him dead in the eyes. "Why is it that you can believe all the bullshit that that little fairy of a boy feeds you, but you cannot believe things I say—someone who _knows_ you."

Kurt almost laughed. "You hardly know me, Puckerman, and for your information, Blaine has only treated me well, whereas you have only bullied me or completely ignored my existence until now. You've only treated me poorly."

"Which is why I am here, trying to make it _right_," Puck explained, feeling a little worn out. "Why I have been trying to make it right by letting you know how I feel."

"Oh, and how _do _you feel, Puckerman?" Kurt asked, taking one step closer to him. "Wait, let me guess: you are scared for the glee club; you know that you guys need me, so the only reason why you are doing all of this is to get me back to McKinley. And once I came back, then you could go back to not giving a damn about me."

"That is not true," Puck said, his voice dangerously low. "Yeah, a part of me wants you back, but that is only because I miss you like crazy, and don't you dare say that I am just fucking lying because if you knew half the stuff that was going through my brain, then you sure as hell wouldn't have blown me off tonight."

And with that, Puck turned on his heel and walked towards where he came in from. Kurt was calling after him, perhaps wanting to yell at him some more, but Puck did not bother turning around. He was pretty sure that Kurt was even following him; that was fine, let him watch Puck leave, knowing that it was his entire fault.

Puck was too angry to realize that it was snowing once he got outside, but he did notice that there was ice when he slipped on it, fell on his ass, and hit his head.

"Puck!" he heard a distant voice scream, and he tried to get up and move, but he was hurting too bad and was also extremely dizzy.

Less than a minute later and Kurt knelt down beside him, trying to lift his head up from the ice to examine the damage. There was no blood, so that was good, but Puck seemed extremely out of it.

"Help me up," Puck demanded. "I have to get home before my mother has a bitch fit."

"You're not going anywhere, Puck," Kurt told him in a serious and final tone.

"The hell I'm not. I can't stay here," Puck said, trying to get up off the ice, and immediately discovering that that was not a good idea. He just slid around some more and ended up on his back again, his head in Kurt's lap. Kurt's gentle hand was rubbing the back of his head where he hit it softly in an attempt to mask the pain. His touch was warm and tender, unlike anything Puck's ever felt. He could feel heat rising up in his face, and was glad that it was cold outside since he could always blame his red cheeks on the freezing temperature if Kurt asked.

"You are," Kurt told him. "You just took a nasty fall and hit your head. Besides, the parking lot is one huge block of ice, and I am sure the highways aren't any better. If you leave, then you're just going to end up killing yourself out there."

"So, you're telling me to lay here till some guy comes around to salt the roads? Not happening," Puck said stubbornly.

Kurt rolled his eyes and draped one of Puck's arms over his shoulders. "You can stay with me. I don't have a roommate yet, so there's an extra bed in my dorm room. The roads will be better tomorrow, so you can leave then."

"But it's a school night," Puck protested as Kurt attempted to help him to his feet.

"So? You always skip first _and_ second period, anyway," Kurt told him, heaving his body again. "You're going to have to help me if you want to get off the ice."

Puck sighed, and then rolled onto his stomach. He brought his legs up under him and held out his hands for Kurt to take. Once Kurt had a firm grasp on him, Puck pulled himself up. As soon as he was standing completely, he swayed dangerously, and Kurt had to rush to his side to support him. "How come you're so good on the ice? What are you wearing, ice skates?"

"No," Kurt said, sighing heavily as he helped Puck back into the building. "I just have proper winter boots."

##

Puck took one look at the giant staircase and frowned. "Is there an elevator around here or something?"

"You don't think you could make it up with my help?" Kurt asked. "I am rather strong, you know."

"Well, if you don't mind me taking you out too if I fall, then by all means, let's use the stairs," Puck said sarcastically.

"Fine, we'll take the elevator," Kurt finally said, giving in.

Kurt brought them to the other side of the hall and pressed a button on the outside of the elevator to go up.

"Whoa," Puck said, taking one look at the elevator. "These look like the ones from Titanic."

Kurt rolled his eyes. They looked _nothing _like the ones from Titanic.

##

"This is your room?" Puck asked in awe when Kurt pushed the door open.

"The tuition isn't out of this world for nothing," Kurt said, heaving Puck into his room. He kicked the door shut behind him and then deposited Puck onto the empty bed across from his own. "You better make that back up once you're ready to go."

"Make the bed?" Puck asked incredulously under his breath. He moved to lie down on the bed, but he was having difficulty from still being completely dizzy.

Kurt sighed. "Let me help you," he told Puck, sitting on the side of the bed. He grabbed Puck's arm as if he wanted to arm wrestle him and eased him down onto a pile of pillows that Kurt had just stacked for him. Then, Kurt yanked the comforter out from beneath Puck's body and covered him with it. "Comfortable?"

Puck nodded, and snuggled into the blankets. Kurt sat down in the middle of his bed with his legs crossed, and opened up a book in his lap.

"So," Puck said, watching Kurt as he studied. "Who was that tool you were with?"

Kurt rolled his eyes into his book. "His name is Blaine," he explained with a sigh. "And he is not a tool. He's actually quite the gentleman." _Unlike someone I know_, Kurt thought to himself.

Puck's eyes narrowed. He could be quite the gentleman, too, if he wanted. He _tried_ being a gentleman, but Kurt shot him down. "Is he your boyfriend?"

Kurt's cheeks turned a rosy pink. "No, he's not, but I want him to be," he admitted before he furrowed his brows. "Oh, why am I telling you this? We aren't even _friends_."

"Well, _I_ think we're friends," Puck said, sounding a little sad. "I mean, I think you're cool and stuff, and you sing really well."

"Friends hang out with each other and have things in common," Kurt said. "The only times we were actually together was in glee club, and we have absolutely nothing in common."

Puck snorted. "Well, we _would _have hung out had you actually stuck to our plans." He knew he probably should have let it go, but he was really upset about it; more upset than he cared to openly admit to Kurt. "And besides, we have _some _things in common. We both sing really well, both can dance better than Finn, both appreciate Broadway," he started, and then dropped his voice, "both like dudes."

"What?" Kurt asked, his eyes darting up from his book. "Did you just say that you like _guys_?"

"Well, I've never been with another dude before," Puck explained, pulling the comforter tighter around him. "But I don't discriminate," he added, waggling is eyebrows and puckering up his lips. "Why, you wanna get with this?"

Kurt laughed and slammed his book shut. "Definitely not, Puckerman. You are _not _my type."

"How am I not your type? I'm a dude," Puck said defensively.

Puck really had no idea, did he? "Just because you're a guy does not mean that you are my type. I am sure you wouldn't date every single girl you came across. It's the same for me."

"You'd totally be eating your words if I came over and kissed you right now," Puck told him proudly. "I bet you'd fall in love with me as soon as you felt my lips on yours."

Kurt blushed, but otherwise ignored Puck. Sure, he was incredibly good-looking, and surprisingly, Kurt was turned on by his bad boy edge, but that neither of those things could make Kurt forget that Puck was still a bit of a jerk.

"I'll take your silence as agreement with me," Puck said, smirking, loving how Kurt scoffed and rolled his eyes. He knew he could get under Kurt's skin, but he also knew that whenever he did, Kurt's cheeks flushed. So, that was a good thing, right?

"So," Puck said, sitting up a little bit so he could get a better look at Kurt. "Your Warblers audition is in two days?"

"How do you know about that?" Kurt asked, pulling off his jacket.

Puck smiled widely. "I called."

Of _course _he called. "Yes, my audition is in two days."

"Are you nervous?" Puck asked.

Kurt did not answer immediately; he considered Puck's question, and then nodded weakly. "Yeah, I am. I've never sang in front of any of them before. I just hope they appreciate my voice."

"Well, how about I come to your audition?" Puck offered, and before Kurt could protest and say that was a horrible idea, Puck continued, "It'd be great. I've heard you sing about a hundred times. I could sit near the front and you could pretend it's just me in the room…I mean, with everyone else from glee, too…and then you won't be so nervous. I could be like your good luck charm."

Kurt stared at Puck for a long while, considering his proposal. "I suppose that _could_ work. They do let loved ones come, and I could just _say _you're my friend."

"Yeah, because we_ are_ friends," Puck said stubbornly. Why couldn't Kurt get that through his head? "And then afterward, I can take you to Breadstix to celebrate you getting in."

"You don't want to sabotage my audition, do you?" Kurt asked, his eyes narrow.

"What? No, not at all," Puck said. "I just want to try and help you." He wished that people didn't think that he always had some ulterior motive whenever he wanted to do something nice for someone. Every now and then, he just wanted to be a good friend. Was that such a crime? "So, do we have a date?"

Kurt raised his brows. "Well, it's not a _date_, but yes, we have_ plans_," he said, reaching into his wardrobe to pull out some pajamas.

Oh damn, Puck didn't have anything to sleep in. "Hey, Kurt?" he asked sweetly, sitting up in the bed. "Do you think I could borrow a pair of your pajamas?"

"But you're bigger than me," Kurt responded.

"It's not like anyone is going to see me in them but you. They don't have to fit perfectly," Puck explained, pulling off his leather jacket and tightly fitted shirt. "Just give me the ones you never wear."

Kurt sighed heavily, but then tossed Puck some dreadful plaid pajama pants that his father gave him for his birthday that he hardly ever wore. "Thanks," Puck said, unbuckling his jeans right in front of Kurt.

"Uh…um," Kurt spurted out, flushing bright red and trying not to stare too much at Puck's body. "Er, don't you need a shirt."

"Nah," Puck said, pulling on the plaid pants. "I normally sleep naked, but I thought that might get you a little too hot and bothered."

* * *

**Notes: **I hope you guys were okay with the words that Kurt and Puck had! I thought that it was probably best to have Puck fall from grace and humble him a bit, and it was also a good opportunity to get the seeds of their relationship planted.

Anyway, let me know what you guys think! I promise I will update soon! Thanks for all your support.


	3. Crazy for You

**Notes: **Thanks for all of the support everyone! I am so glad to see that there are other Puck/Kurt shippers out there! Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this chapter. Hopefully I'll update just as quickly if not quicker with the next installment!

There are a couple song lyrics used in this chapter; one is "The Scientist" by Coldplay and the other is "Crazy for You" by Adele. I obviously own neither! If I were able to write such beautiful songs, I'd be a happy camper.

As always, song lyrics are in _italics_. Texts are in "_italics with quotation marks_," just so there's no confusion!

I hope everyone had a great New Years!

Thanks, and enjoy! :)

* * *

_**Chapter Three **_**– Crazy for You**

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* * *

**

Puck pried open one eye, squinting from the bright sunshine that washed the room, and for a second, he forgot where he was. It took him a while for him to remember that he stopped by and stayed at Dalton Academy last night—with Kurt, no less, who was not in his bed. Puck opened his other eye and looked around; seeing the half-naked boy standing in front of his full-length mirror, fixing his hair into his signature hairdo with delicate fingers.

He couldn't help but stare at Kurt as he prepared himself for class. Puck knew he shouldn't; keeping his eyes glued on the dimples that peaked out from the waistband of Kurt's trousers probably meant Puck was extremely creepy, and maybe gay. Or at least bisexual. Whatever. Puck thought labels were pointless, anyway.

Kurt always looked really skinny beneath his clothes, so Puck was a little surprised to see that his back was nicely toned, his arms slightly muscular, and his abs just visible. Kurt's body was perfect; not over the top, just a nice, thin layer of muscle. In an odd way, Kurt's body reminded him of a really awesome birthday cake; not one that was covered in pounds of icing, but one that had just the right amount.

Now Puck wanted some cake.

"Why don't you take a picture," Kurt said, glaring into the mirror at Puck with a very tiny half-smirk evident on his lips. "It'll last longer."

Puck huffed, threw off his blankets, and stretched. Kurt ought not to tempt him too much, because Puck really had no shame. "When's class?"

"In about an hour," Kurt told him, pulling his undershirt on over his head, and then his button-up collared Dalton top.

"How about let's go get some food?" Puck suggested, dragging himself up from the comfortable bed. He grabbed the waistband of the pajama pants that Kurt let him borrow and twisted it so that they hung properly on his body. "My treat."

Kurt pursed his lips as he did up his buttons, considering Puck's offer. "Well, there is a café here that serves _amazing _muffins and really delicious coffee. Plus, they're also lower in calorie than most places."

To Puck, low-calorie was always code for lame food, but if that's what Kurt wanted, then he'll just deal with it. "So, do you want to?" he asked, pulling off Kurt's pajama pants so that he was left standing in nothing but his boxers. "By the way, where should I put these?"

"You can keep them," Kurt said, grimacing at the pajama bottoms. "I never really liked them anyway. I am not into looking like a lumberjack."

Puck brought the pajama pants up to his nose and inhaled their scent. "Good, they still smell like you."

Kurt looked at Puck like he just told him that one plus one equaled red. "_What_ _did you just say_?" he spat, his brows furrowed together, and then he shook his head. "Nevermind, I do not want to hear that again."

Puck nodded slowly, licking his lips before he started to put on his outfit from yesterday. "So, do you want to go to breakfast?"

"Well, breakfast _is_ the most important meal of the day," Kurt said, sliding his textbooks and notebooks into his leather satchel. Once his bag was all packed, Kurt glanced back up at Puck and gave him a hard look as if he were trying to decide if Puck actually wanted to just spend time with him, or if this was about something else. Finally, Kurt shrugged and said, "If you're paying, then sure."

##

"If these are muffins, then why don't they have icing on the top?" Puck asked, frowning at the display of healthy-looking muffins that were full of things like raisins, oats, and dates instead of chocolate chips or cream fillings.

Kurt rolled his eyes. "You're thinking of _cupcakes_, Puck. Muffins don't have icing."

"Not even a little?" Puck asked, pressing his palms up against the glass to get a better look at all of the bakery items. "Do they have cookies?"

He pointed to one end of the display at the tiny variety of cookies, and Puck's eyes lit up when he saw that they had huge freshly baked chocolate chip cookies—his favorite.

Kurt decided upon a vanilla scone and some kind of coffee drink that Puck had never heard of, whereas he ordered three cookies, one brownie, and a large hot chocolate, which earned him a strange look from Kurt. "What? I'm hungry."

"How do you stay in shape when you eat like that?" Kurt asked incredulously, taking his food from the cashier.

"You think I have a nice body?" Puck asked, waggling his eyebrows before he took a sip of his hot chocolate.

Kurt released a nervous laugh and his cheeks flushed a dull pink. "Usually when people eat like that, they're overweight and you're clearly not."

"Well, sex is a really good way to burn some calories," Puck told him matter-of-factly. "You should try it sometime."

It was a good thing that Kurt didn't have coffee in his mouth, because it probably would have been down his shirt right about now. "That would require someone willing to have sex with me."

"You could always hit me up for a good time," Puck said playfully, winking.

Kurt chuckled and stared down into his coffee. "I'm not like you, Puck. I don't just want to have a thing with someone who doesn't really give a damn about me. I want a _relationship_. I don't think casual sex will ever be my thing like it is yours."

Puck huffed and leaned back in his chair. "I can totally do the relationship thing too."

He raised a brow and stared at Puck. Was he suggesting that _they _should be together? Because that was just ridiculous. Kurt sincerely doubted that Puck could commit to one person for more than twenty-four hours, if that.

So, instead of continuing the conversation, Kurt changed the subject. "I should get going," he blurted out, feeling heat rise in his face.

"Oh yeah," Puck said teasingly. "You don't want to be late for class."

"Exactly," Kurt said, nodding fervently.

"I'll text you later," Puck said, flashing Kurt his wide, winning smile as he pushed himself up from the table. "By the way, thanks for the pants."

##

"_I'm going to wear your pajama pants every single day till they stop smelling like you_," Puck texted Kurt, biting his tongue to keep from laughing. He didn't want his geometry teacher knowing that he was not paying attention to the lecture.

Less than a minute later, Kurt texted back, "_Now that is just creepy. Why would you do something like that_?"

"_I like the way you smell_. _Besides, I am pretty positive that I am the first person that has scored some of your clothing_." Puck told him. Yeah, now that Blaine kid could be jealous of _him _instead of the other way around.

"_I just gave them to you because you slept in them, Puckerman." _

Puck sighed through a small laugh. "_Yeah, whatever helps you sleep at night. So, have you decided what song you're going to sing for your audition_?"

A couple minutes later, Puck's phone lit up with a text reading: "_No, I haven't. I don't have any ideas. I mean, I know what I'd _like _to sing, but the songs I like don't really fit the Warblers style._"

"_You can only sing songs they want you to sing?_" That didn't seem fair. What if Kurt wanted to sing something that the other Warblers didn't approve of? Was he shit out of luck?

"_Well, it's not a rule or anything, but I want to make a good first impression_," Kurt explained.

Puck thought for a moment, and then typed, "_Are you busy tonight_?"

Less than a minute later, Kurt texted back with: "_Not really, I just have some studying to do later on, why?_"

He smirked. "_How about I come over with my MacBook? We can look through iTunes for songs. You can sing a couple of verses, and I can tell you if you sing it well or not_." Really, Puck had the best ideas.

Kurt didn't text back until a couple of minutes passed. "_But I am over an hour away and you were just here last night_. _That's a lot of gas_."

Hah, money was _not_ an issue. If he ran out of cash, he could always ask his mom for some, and she'd give it to him. Maybe he'd have to babysit his sister for a couple of days, but it'd be worth it. "_Don't worry about it, I've got it all covered_. _So, are you up for a jam session_?"

"_I don't know. I feel like I should give you something in return for making you come out all this way_," Kurt texted back.

"_Wanna toss in a make out session_?" Puck typed back, smiling from ear to ear.

A minute or two later, a text popped up, saying: "_Uh no, but I will buy you dinner. The cafeteria here actually serves good, _real _food._"

"_Are you going to turn me down again_?" Puck asked. It was mostly a joke, but a small part of Puck was actually a little worried. Truth be told, he really enjoyed spending time with Kurt, and he was also pretty sure that the boy would be an extremely good kisser with lips like his.

He was thankful that Kurt took his question well. "_Guess I deserve that; no, I'm not going to turn you down. You actually listen to the radio, unlike me. You're doing me a big favor_."

"_After we find you one kickass song, the Warblers are going to beg you to join their ranks, I swear,_" Puck texted back, and then he remembered that he was supposed to be trying to get Kurt to come back to McKinley. Helping him to become a Warbler was definitely a step in the wrong direction. Well, whatever. He could work on getting Kurt to come back later when he wasn't so focused on trying to get into Kurt's pants.

He wasn't even sure what it was about Kurt that enthralled him so much. Yeah, Kurt was attractive, but it was more than that. It was the way he sang, the way he spoke, his pride _and _his humbleness, his fashion sense…fucking everything about him, it seemed like.

Man, he must have hit his head _really _hard on the ice last night. Puck needed to pull himself together.

"_When are you going to be here_?" Kurt texted.

"_After school I'll stop by my place, change my clothes, grab my MacBook, and then I'll leave. Sound good_?" Puck asked.

"_Yes, that's fine. See you then_," Kurt responded.

Puck smirked as he pounded the buttons on the keyboard of his phone. "_Wear something pretty for me_?"

Less than a minute later and Kurt texted him back with: "_Pay attention to your teacher, Puck_."

##

Kurt was frowning at his closet, deciding what to wear when he heard a knock at the door. He glanced over to his alarm clock on his bedside table. It was half past three, and therefore too early for Puck to already be there. But who else could it be? "Yes?" Kurt called out.

"It's me," a voice said from the other side of his door. Blaine.

He sighed. Blaine was just about the last person that he wanted to see right now, second only to Karofsky. They hadn't talked since last night, and Kurt had been doing his best to avoid Blaine, but now that he was outside his dorm room and knew that Kurt was inside, he _had _to talk to him.

"Are you going to let me in?" Blaine asked politely, tapping the door with his finger.

"Yes, coming," Kurt said, hurrying to his door, unlocking it, and pulling it open. Blaine was leaning against the doorframe, sporting that easy smile of his. "Sorry, I was in the middle of something. Please come in," Kurt told him, standing aside.

"Thanks," Blaine said graciously, stepping into Kurt's room. His eyes immediately fell upon the bed that Puck neglected to make this morning, and his smile faltered slightly. "I hope I didn't interrupt anything too important."

"No you didn't. I was just picking out an outfit," Kurt said, waving towards his closet. "What's up?"

Maybe Blaine came to talk about his audition, not last night.

"I just wanted to talk to you about what happened last night," Blaine said, putting his hands behind his back, smiling softly.

Fuck.

"Okay," Kurt said, offering Blaine the stool in front of his vanity while he sat down on his bed. "What about last night?"

Blaine didn't speak right away; he considered what he should say, and just how he should say it first. "I know how hard transferring schools can be, and I also know that's a time when a person needs his friends the most. I don't want anyone here at Dalton to come between you and those friendships you treasure. Your friend seemed pretty upset last night…"

"We talked and he's fine now," Kurt interjected quickly before Blaine could go on. "He's actually coming over tonight to help me decide on a song for my audition." Maybe that wasn't wise for Kurt to say—Blaine really didn't need that much information, and when he smiled sadly, Kurt regretted it immediately. "You don't need to worry about me."

"Well," Blaine said, clapping his thighs before he stood up. "Good luck with picking a song. I know you'll be brilliant."

Kurt grimaced. "Don't jinx me."

"Jinx you?" Blaine repeated, chuckling. "As if. It's almost pointless for you to audition; there's no doubt in my mind you'll get in."

"I hope you're right," Kurt said.

##

"I approve," Puck said, looking Kurt up and down. "And you wore it just for me."

Kurt snorted. "Don't flatter yourself too much." In all honesty, he _did _wear his outfit just for Puck. Had Puck not come to him tonight, he probably would have just stayed in his uniform till he turned in for the night, but he wasn't about to admit that to Puck. "So, are you hungry?"

"I'm always up for some food," Puck said, walking just a step or two behind Kurt so he could get a good, quick look at his ass in his tight jeans, and then sped up.

It was weird; as Kurt walked beside Puck, he actually felt _protected_. Puck's arm was so close to his own that he could feel the warmth coming from Puck's skin. A student walked approached the pair of them, and when Kurt had to walk even closer to Puck so that the student could pass, his hand brushed Puck's and his breath hitched in the back of his throat. Puck's hand was soft and inviting, almost begging to be held by him—so unlike Kurt imagined it'd be. Immediately, he wanted to touch Puck's hand again—touch any _part _of him that felt the same, actually—but that would just be wrong. Puck was a dog of a man; Kurt shouldn't want to hold hands for him, shouldn't be feeling the way he was about him.

And yet, he couldn't help it.

##

"Wow, this place is quite—" Puck started once Kurt led him into a common room, yet found himself unable to finish his sentence. The walls were made out of the finest wood paneling Puck had ever seen and actually had _crown molding_. Leather over-stuffed couches, chairs, and hassocks were spread over the entire room, as well as elegant coffee tables that housed chess boards and other logic games, and expensive-looking lamps.

"Dapper," Kurt supplied.

Puck had no idea what that word meant, but it sounded good, so he nodded. "Where is everyone?"

"There are other common areas," Kurt explained. "This one is the smallest, so it is deserted most of the time."

"Good, then we won't be interrupted," Puck said happily as he looked out an outlet to plug his MacBook into. Once he found one, he settled down onto one of the leather couches and dragged a side table toward him and placed his MacBook on top of it. "Still haven't thought of any songs?" Puck asked before he set out on his scavenger hunt.

"Not really. Everything I can think of is a show tune," Kurt admitted, sitting down across from Puck.

Puck frowned slightly. "Why are you sitting so far away? You need to come closer," he insisted, patting the space next to him.

Kurt flushed a dull pink as he stood back up, crossed the room, and then sat back down next to Puck. Again, he immediately felt the heat that seemed to radiate off Puck's body, and it sent a shiver down his spine. And when Puck scooted a little closer so that Kurt could get a better view of his computer screen, Kurt's stomach felt like it was twisting into knots and his breathing was coming in a staccato rhythm.

"You okay?" Puck asked, turning to face Kurt so that only mere inches separated them.

"What?" Kurt spurted, blinking fast as he tried to calm down. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just uh...anything good come up?"

"Katy Perry, Black Eyed Peas, Rihanna…wow, these are the _top _songs of 2010?" Puck asked incredulously. It wasn't that they weren't good artists; they just weren't his cup of tea _at all_. "Hey, how about Coldplay?"

Kurt shrugged. "It depends on the song."

"Heard of _The Scientist_?" Puck asked.

Kurt shook his head. "No, how does it go?"

"Uh," Puck said, trying to remember the lyrics, then finally sang: _Come up to meet you, tell you I'm sorry, you don't know how lovely you are. I had to find you, tell you I need you, tell you I set you apart. Tell me your secrets, and ask me your questions, oh let's go back to the start. Running in circles, chasing our tails, heads on a science apart_.

Kurt was certain his heart skipped a beat. He could feel Puck's breath on him when he sang. And the _lyrics_—the lyrics of the song reminded Kurt of everything that had transpired since Puck first texted him; how Puck was looking for a second chance to prove to Kurt that that bully he once knew was gone, and that he wanted to start anew.

Kurt had to remind himself to breathe. "Uh," he finally managed, albeit weakly. "That is a beautiful song, but I think it's better suited for a voice like yours."

"Oh, whatever. You could sing any song you wanted and it'd still sound like a dream," Puck informed him as he went back to scrolling through the list of songs. "John Mayer?"

Kurt grimaced. "Definitely not."

"What? You don't like John Mayer?" Puck asked, sounding shocked.

"Well, his music is alright," Kurt said, "but he's kind of a prick."

Puck laughed and continued scrolling. "Prick or not, he's still got good songs." His eyes moved back and forth quickly as he read the song titles and the artists, looking for something that might fit Kurt's singing style. "Who's Adele?"

Kurt stared at Puck with a blank face. "You're in glee club and you don't know who_ Adele_ is?"

"Should I?" Puck asked, looking confused.

"Yes, you should!" Kurt nearly shrieked. "She's only one the youngest soul singer we've seen in decades. Her voice is smooth, sultry, and truly showcases all of her emotions—it's beautiful."

"Oh," Puck said stupidly, and clicked her name. He looked through the list of her songs, recognizing only one—a Bob Dylan song that she covered. "What song of hers do you like?"

Kurt rolled his eyes. "All of them, obviously, and you'll understand after you hear something of hers," he told him, turning Puck's MacBook toward him so he could have a better look at the song list. "I love this one," Kurt said, pointing toward a song called "Crazy for You."

"Let's sing it together," Puck told him, pulling the song up on YouTube.

"But you haven't even heard it before," Kurt argued.

Puck smirked. "I'll follow your lead. Ready?"

Kurt wasn't sure if he'd be able to remember all of the lyrics to the song with Puck sitting so close to him, thighs touching and arms aligned. Kurt took one deep breath and then nodded.

The first couple of notes on the guitar sounded. The video that was playing was one that was intended for karaoke purposes; Kurt waited for his queue, and then sang the verse: _Found myself today singing out loud your name. You said I'm crazy, and if I am, I'm crazy for you. _He noticed that Puck was staring at him as he sang the lyrics; his eyes drifting from Kurt's lips to his eyes and back again. _Sometimes sitting in the dark wishing you were here turns me crazy, but it's you who makes me lose my head._

Kurt stopped singing for Puck to take over the next verse, staring at the screen as the lyrics scrolled across: _And every time I'm meant to be acting sensible, you drift into my head and turn me into a crumbling fool. Tell me to run and I'll race; if you want me to stop, I'll freeze. _He sang with a similar jazz and blues style that Adele used; his voice deep and smooth. _And if you want me gone, I'll leave. Just hold me closer baby. _

He almost refused to sing the next verse just so Puck could keep on singing, but decided against it: _And make me crazy for you. Crazy for you. _He made sure to look directly into Puck's eyes when he sang that particular line in a teasing sort of way. _Lately with this state I'm in, I can't help myself but spin. I wish you'd come over; send me spinning closer to you. _

Puck smirked and reluctantly tore his eyes from Kurt to look at the screen again: _My oh my, how my blood boils, it's sweet taste for you. _That was no lie where Puck was concerned, and all his blood seemed to flow to one particular area, and goddammit, it certainly was not his head. Where's a pillow when a guy need one? _It strips me down bare, and gets me into my favorite mood. _He waggled his eyebrows at Kurt.

Kurt nudged him playfully in the sides before he sang the next verse: _I keep on trying, fighting these feelings away, but the more I do, the crazier I turn into. _It seemed like the more he tried to loathe Puck like he was supposed to—like he had _every_ reason to—the more he found himself enjoying Puck's presence, even when it was only via texts. _Pacing floors and opening doors, hoping you'll walk through and save me boy, because I'm too crazy for you. Crazy for you. _

"I think you found a song to sing," Puck said, smiling and feeling victorious. "You're totally going to get in with that performance."

Kurt laughed nervously. "We sounded good, didn't we?"

Puck placed a hand on Kurt's thigh. "You sounded good."

He inhaled sharply when he felt Puck's hand on him and stared at it. Puck's touch was innocent, yet in such an intimate place, and Kurt felt a little lightheaded. Just as he was getting used to having Puck's there, he quickly stole it back. "Er, sorry."

"No, it's fine," Kurt said quickly, blushing deeply, focusing hard on looking anywhere except at Puck, knowing he'd probably literally go _crazy_ if he looked into his honey brown eyes. "I don't mind."

"You don't?" Puck asked playfully, bringing his hand back to Kurt's thigh, running his fingertips down to his kneecap so gently that Kurt felt the tingling that his touch produced more than the touch itself. "So, it's okay if I do this?"

Kurt couldn't remember how to speak; all he did was breathe heavy and sort of nod. His mouth was as dry as a cotton ball, and his body felt like it was on fire.

"How about this?" Puck's fingers lightly traveled up his side, then along the inner part of Kurt's arm.

"Yeah," Kurt said, sounding winded. He didn't look at Puck; he kept his eyes glued on Puck's hand as if he had to reassure himself that this was actually happening and not all in his imagination.

"Is it okay if I—" Puck started, but was cut off by the sound of a book bag being dropped on a coffee table. He turned around and glared at a prissy-looking Dalton student with horn rimmed glasses and slick-back hair.

"Hey cockblock, why don't you go study in your own room?" Puck called out to the Dalton kid, who gave him the blankest of looks.

"_Puck_!" Kurt hissed, elbowing him in his ribs. "We should probably go anyway."

"Why? I don't care if he watches," Puck said, shrugging. He already told the guy to take a hike, and if he didn't listen, then that wasn't Puck's fault.

"It's not like we were actually going to _do anything _here," Kurt said, unplugging Puck's charger from the wall and handing it to him.

Puck released an airy chuckle. "So you think," he told Kurt, closing his MacBook before he stored it back into its bag.

Kurt rolled his eyes, but a small smile played at his lips. "So I _know_."

##

"So, when's your audition tomorrow?" Puck asked, leaning against the doorframe into Kurt's room.

"Three-thirty," Kurt told him after he checked the note he made for himself in his iPhone for probably the hundredth time that week.

"Dammit, guess that means I am going to have to miss fifth, sixth, _and_ seventh period," Puck said, crossing his arms over his chest.

Kurt raised his brows. "Is that a problem?"

"Hell no," Kurt told him. He practically _looked_ for an opportunity to skip class.

"Yeah, I didn't think so," Kurt said, smiling. Part of him wanted to invite Puck inside his room just so he could stay a bit longer, but it was getting late, and Puck really ought to be getting back home. Besides, Kurt obviously wasn't thinking clearly. He had felt all these crazy things for Puck, but he wasn't even sure if he could trust the way Puck was acting around him. It was so different than before. "Thanks for all your help tonight," Kurt added, "I'd probably be going insane trying to pick a song on my own if it weren't for you."

"It was fun," Puck told him, shrugging. Actually, it was more than fun; it was the best time that Puck had had in a long time, but if he admitted to that, then Kurt would probably think he was a sissy. He couldn't wait to come back tomorrow just to hear Kurt sing the song again, and then finally take him to Breadstix. Puck's stomach growled just from thinking of all the carbohydrate goodness there.

"Guess I'll see you tomorrow, then," Kurt said awkwardly, fiddling with his door handle.

"You're not going to give me a hug goodbye?" Puck asked teasingly.

"Oh, uh," Kurt stammered, feeling heat rise in his face for probably the fiftieth time that night. He's known Puck for a while now, and it confused him (and embarrassed him) that all of the sudden, he couldn't stop blushing whenever he was around him. Kurt took one step out from his dorm room, spread his arms apart, and brought his body to Puck's.

Puck hugged him tight, like he had wanted to do just this for so long, and that now he had the chance, he didn't want to let go. Kurt's nose was pressed into the crook of Puck's neck, and he could faintly smell his cologne. Hesitantly, Kurt wrapped his arms around Puck's body, trying hard to make sure his hands didn't go roaming over his muscles no matter how badly he wanted to touch them.

When Puck pulled away, Kurt thought for one brilliant second that Puck was going to kiss him, but he didn't. All he did was tell Kurt goodnight one last time, turned around, and walked down the hallway to the stairs.

Well, there was always tomorrow.


	4. Mixed Feelings

**Notes: **Thank you everyone for your kind words! I am so glad that you guys seem to be enjoying my story, and I am going to try and keep the chapters coming quickly! It's really awesome for me to hear from people who are passionate about the pairing like I am, and want to see more! And for everyone who has put my story on their favorites or alerts, thank you, and I hope you're enjoying my story as well!

Yay, Kurt's audition is up, and after that, Breadstix! I wish I could go to Breadstix...

In this chapter, Kurt starts to realize that everything is moving so fast and everything is so different with Puck that he needs to figure out what is going on with our favorite bad boy. We also get to see more of Puck's gentlemanly side. Gosh, that side of him just makes my heart melt. Whenever he was really kind to Quinn in season one, especially when he said that he was really in love with her after the baby was born...I was a puddle of goo!

But Puck/Kurt is way hotter than Puck/Quinn!

* * *

_**Chapter Four**_**—Mixed Feelings**

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Kurt Hummel was experiencing emotional warfare. For starters, being the new kid at school, even if said school had a no-harassment policy was never easy. Much to his surprise, he wasn't making friends very quickly, if at all. All he really had was Blaine, and things between them had been strained ever since that episode with Puck.

_Puck_. Everything was all over the place with him. As much as he wanted to, Kurt just could not shake their past easily. Puck _had_ bullied him, and while it wasn't nearly as bad as the things Karofsky did to him, it didn't eliminate Puck's actions. Never before had Puck gone out of his way to be nice to him before—nice to _anyone_, really, besides maybe Quinn after he knocked her up—and then suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere, he was? And it wasn't just being nice to Kurt; he was flirting with him, teasing him, practically acting like he wanted to be a _couple _with him.

That wasn't Puck. None of that was. It had to be some kind of plot.

And yet, Kurt honestly _felt _something, and he was damn sure that Puck did, too. The emotions they shared seemed genuine—real, and Kurt liked whenever he was around Puck; looked forward to it. Whenever Puck came around, it was the highlight of Kurt's day. For a couple of hours, he didn't feel like some outcast that no one knew; he felt close to him, something he thought would have been impossible given the circumstances.

Kurt wasn't sure what to think, how to feel, or what the hell was even going on. Everything was happening so fast, no matter how desperately he wanted things to just slow down so he could catch his breath. They had only been talking for a week, and Puck came over nearly every day. Kurt thought maybe it would be best for them to regain some concept of distance between them, but what was best for him was not what he wanted.

Never before had some guy pined over him like this, and Kurt loved every minute of it. It felt good to be pursued.

He just wished that Puck pursued him because he actually had feelings for him, and not some other reason.

He had to get down to the bottom of this; he had to know how Puck truly felt and why, out of the blue, he wanted to spend time with Kurt. And since there was no time like the present, Kurt decided he was going to ask Puck about it all today, only _not now_. No, he'd wait until after his audition—maybe when they were driving to Breadstix or something—Kurt had to focus on singing now, and only that.

It was like Puck knew that Kurt was thinking about him, because as soon as he picked up his pen to jot down some notes from the overhead protector his teacher was lecturing behind, Kurt's phone buzzed dully in his pocket.

Fuck, he forgot to put it on silent. Kurt dipped his head down, pretending like he didn't hear anything as he looked around the room through his bangs, just to see if anyone was giving him nasty looks. Once he was sure that every student was looking at the teacher (albeit with glazed-over eyes), Kurt slowly reached his hand into his pocket and extracted his phone.

"_How's it going, sweet thing_?"

Kurt grimaced. If this was all some act, he really didn't know how well he was going to take it. If Puck was just leading him on only to break his heart, he was sure as hell never going back to McKinley. It would hurt too much. Kurt stared at the message from him for a long time, unsure of what to say and how to feel. Sweet thing? He wanted to be happy about being called that, but he wasn't.

"_Just in class_," Kurt finally texted back, leaving it at that. Oh, how he wanted to just ask Puck to be frank with him; to lay it all down for him before he got too attached. It _had_ to be some kind of plot; guys like Noah Puckerman did not go for guys like him—did not go for guys _at all_.

"_Are you nervous_?" Puck asked.

Anxious was a better word for how he was feeling. "_Yes, I am_," Kurt responded, but it wasn't so much about his audition. Yeah, he never sang in front of the Warblers before, but he knew that he was talented. It was Puck who he was nervous about; Kurt was already setting himself up to be heartbroken. It was going to happen, there was no way around it.

"_Want me to come over earlier? I can leave as soon as my geometry class lets out_," Puck texted back quickly.

Truth be told, Kurt _did _want Puck to come over sooner. Whether or not Puck's feelings were real, he just had an effect on Kurt. Whenever Puck was around, he felt safe—_happy—_like everything could go wrong, and still, it wouldn't be all that bad because they'd be together. But they needed some space, and Puck really shouldn't miss more classes for him. "_No, that's okay. I mean, I want you to, but you shouldn't. Your classes are important_."

"_Not really; at least, not as important as you_."

Kurt felt like he could melt into the floor from that text message. Puck knew just what to say, and Kurt would be damned if he actually did something as risky as falling in love with him. "_If we keep doing this, you're going to fail because of me, and I don't want that to happen_."

It took Puck a while to text him back. "_Why don't you want to see me_?"

Oh for fuck's sake, why was this all happening now? Why was it so _complicated_? Kurt worried his lower lip between his teeth as he thought of what to say, and how to say it. His thumbs slowly moved over the keyboard of his iPhone as he typed out a text message, reading: "_I do want to see you, but I don't want you having to make all these sacrifices just to be with me when I can't make any in return_." He thought for a moment, and then reluctantly added, "_Besides, I've been talking to my dad and step-mom about possibly coming home on the weekends._" Kurt didn't want to admit that tidbit to Puck just yet; he wanted to know how Puck truly felt about him first, but before he could take back what he typed, the message was already being sent.

"_Whoa, seriously? You think they'd go for it? Because that'd be pretty freaking awesome_," Puck wrote back.

A small smile was on Kurt's lips as he looked down at his phone. "_Nothing's set in stone yet, and it may only be every other weekend sometimes, but it should all work out_."

One hour away from Westerville in a geometry classroom at McKinley, Puck was almost shaking in his desk from excitement. This was great news. He thought of all of the things they could do if Kurt was in Lima on the weekends: going to the movies, watching Kurt try on stylish outfits at the mall, and maybe spend some nights together where they hopefully did more than just talk, and no, he didn't mean rubbing moisturizer into each other's pores.

"_I still get to come over during the weekdays when I can make it, though, right_?"

Kurt felt warmth travel through his body, straight to his heart, and pink patches rose to the surface of his cheeks. Dammit, he knew he shouldn't, but he couldn't _help _having feelings for Puck. "_You better, I didn't reserve days on my calendar for you for nothing_."

"_Well, if you're in Lima this weekend, make sure Saturday night is free_," Puck texted.

"_How come_?" Kurt responded.

Less than a minute later, his phone lit up. "_Because I made plans for us, and don't ask what they are; it's a surprise_."

Kurt did not like surprises, but this one…he couldn't help feeling excited.

##

Puck was really pleased with himself when he did not get lost on the way to the small common room. Kurt was already waiting for him, sitting on the edge of a leather chair, his legs jittering as he stared into the fireplace. Puck pushed his way past a couple of stray students on his way over to Kurt, tapped him on the shoulder, and felt bad when Kurt nearly jumped out of his skin. "Oh, sorry for scaring you," Puck said, biting his lip as he held his hands out and shook his body a bit. "But I'm here," he said happily.

Kurt looked up at him and smiled weakly. "Thanks for coming," he said in a small voice before he stared back toward the fireplace.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Puck asked, furrowing his brows as he sat down in the chair across from Kurt. "Did something happen? Did that Blaine kid try and come onto you?" Puck's eyes took in Kurt's blank expression; his brows furrowed and his hands balled into fists. "Where is he? I'll kick his ass."

"Blaine didn't do anything," Kurt said, shaking his head. He couldn't be honest with Puck yet; he didn't want to open that can of worms right before his audition. So, he told a little white lie, "I guess I'm just nervous."

Puck pushed himself up from the chair and knelt beside where Kurt was sitting, looking up into his eyes. "You have nothing to worry about," he said, placing a tentative hand on Kurt's fidgety thigh, and it stilled beneath his touch. "I mean, I get being nervous, and me telling you that you shouldn't be probably won't help at all, but you're going to kick ass. That song; you sing it so well, and those Warbler punks are going to wonder how they've been getting on without you."

The corners of Kurt's lips pulled up into a smile as he flushed from Puck's kind words. Gosh, he _really _hoped that this wasn't all some act; he liked Puck, as strange as that was to admit to himself. "You really think so?"

"I know so," Puck said matter-of-factly, placing his hand over Kurt's in his lap.

Kurt stared down at Puck's hand on his. They looked nice together; where his hand was pale and slender, Puck was tanned and toned. "You know," Kurt started, his voice a soft whisper, "It took everything I had to tell you not to come over sooner, especially once you offered."

Puck grinned up at Kurt, who was still looking at their hands and not at him. "You should have just let me. I could have always made up any work I missed." He properly took Kurt's hand in his before he stood up, pulling Kurt with him. "We better get going if you don't want to be late for your audition."

Honestly, he didn't even feel like going anymore now that Puck was there; the only thing that Kurt wanted to do was spend more time with him and him alone. But that wouldn't be too smart of him. Keeping Puck's hand in his, Kurt led him out of the common room and down the hall.

The music room, where the auditions were being held, was completely packed. Most of the people were dressed in Dalton uniforms, however some, like Puck, had on normal clothes—outsiders to the school who came to enjoy the auditions, possibly cheer on a friend or a family member. Puck stayed close to Kurt and gave his hand a soft squeeze, reassuring him that he was there for Kurt and that everything was going to be totally awesome.

Kurt looked up at the queue of nervous-looking Dalton students and frowned. "I have to be up there with the rest of the other perspectives until it's my turn," he said sadly. He didn't want to be apart from Puck from fear that he'd lose all his confidence as soon as he was no longer by his side.

Puck pulled him into a quick hug; one hand resting at the small of Kurt's back while the other on the nape of his neck. "Break a leg; you're going to be amazing," Puck whispered, his lips brushing across Kurt's cheek as he spoke.

When they pulled away, Kurt was sure that his face was as red as a tomato.

They were set up to sing alphabetically, and Kurt was pretty much in the middle of the list. If he had it his way, then he'd go first, or close to first. Whenever he was nervous, he'd rather get whatever he was dreading out of the way instead of sitting around with nothing to do but wait. The first student's performance was actually rather good, whereas the next three that went after him were all either sharp, flat, or both. Jeff Harrison, the student that was scheduled to sing right before him was absolutely _amazing_—performing a Maroon 5 song that had the entire room except for Puck singing along.

"Kurt Hummel," David called out, looking up from his clipboard with a plastered smile on his face.

He held his breath as he walked to the center of the room, glanced at Puck, smiled, and then sang the first note.

##

Puck was the first one to stand up for Kurt, clapping enthusiastically as he glared at everyone else to follow suit. Kurt looked so happy; his smile wide and his eyes sparkling when he saw that his performance was well-received, and Puck had never been more attracted to him than he was now.

Kurt pushed his way passed the sea of people who high-fived him and clapped him on his back till he finally was standing in front of Puck, and it took all of one second for Kurt to throw his arms around him, pulling him into a hug. "That went really well!"

"See, I told you that you had nothing to worry about," Puck told him, smiling into the juncture where Kurt's neck and shoulder met. "When are they going to tell you that you made it in?"

"After the rest of the students are done auditioning, they will deliberate for a few minutes," Kurt told him breathlessly as he took Puck's hand and pulled him down to sit on the couch with him. "When they're done, they'll let us know who they're letting in."

Puck scooted a little closer to Kurt, then slowly and very, very slyly put his arm around Kurt. The intimate touch brought Kurt back down to earth, and he remembered all of his concerns from before. God, his feelings better be true. Puck felt Kurt tense up some, but he did not pull away. "You were so good, you know that? If you came back to glee club, we could totally take Regionals with that performance."

"What?" Kurt asked, his eyes wide and his expression blank. Was _that _was this was all about; getting Kurt to come back to McKinley? No, it couldn't be. Puck never seemed to like glee club _that _much. It had to be something else. "What did you just say?"

"I-I mean _if_ you came back to McKinley," Puck said, stumbling over his words. "You know, not that you should. I mean, you _should_, we'd all love you back, but only if that's what you want." He quickly shut up, sure that the more that he spoke, the deeper the grave he was digging for himself would become.

_It couldn't be_, but if it wasn't, then what _was_ it?

Their trip to Breadstix could not come sooner.

The next couple of performers were all so-so with the exception of one student who sang Katy Perry's "Firework," and while he sang it well, Puck still had to try hard not to barf.

Once the three upperclassmen leads left the room to deliberate, Puck took the opportunity in front of him to try and be heartfelt and stuff. He ran his hand gently through Kurt's soft hair and nudged him playfully until he turned to look at him. "What I said before didn't come out the way I wanted it to," he said. "It's totally cool you go here. I mean, the punks that go here are kind of full of themselves, but…if this place makes you _happy_, then…you should stay."

Puck knew he shouldn't have said that. Regardless of his feelings, he still made Mr. Schuester a promise, and he really wasn't trying hard at all to get Kurt to come back. But, maybe he never really intended on doing that? Maybe it was never about getting Kurt back into glee, but about finally coming to terms with his feelings for Kurt instead of trying to run away from them? At least, that was all that Puck truly cared about anymore.

Kurt started at him long and hard, the rims of his eyes slightly reddened and his eyes a little watery. And just as he was about to say something, to have the conversation that he had been dreading here and now, Blaine, Wes, and David emerged from the room they had deliberated inside, David clutching the clipboard to his chest. "Alright guys," he announced in a loud voice that promptly silenced all of the conversations around the room. "Jeff Harrison, Gideon Connors, and Kurt Hummel," David said, then paused, and Kurt held his breath. "Welcome to the Warblers! We're really glad to have all three of you join our team. As for the others, thank you for auditioning and we invite you back for our next round of auditions."

"Told you; there was no way in hell you weren't getting in," Puck said matter-of-factly over the loud clapping and cheers, smiling wide when he saw how positively elated Kurt was at the news.

After a couple more minutes of one-armed hugs and high-fives from Kurt's now fellow Warblers, he and Puck finally made it out of the school. The crisp January air hit Puck hard, and in the hopes of getting warmer, he stood as close to Kurt as he could without literally being on top of him. And he was done with making excuses as to why he couldn't do the things that he wanted to, so he grabbed Kurt's hand in his and held it, not caring who saw them. Let them watch; let them be _jealous_ because of the delicious arm candy he was sporting. "You know, Brittany did get _one _thing right; your hands are really soft."

Kurt laughed nervously. Holding hands with Puck shouldn't feel _this _good. "Skincare is really important to me," he admitted, enjoying how the pad of Puck's thumb lightly ran back and forth along the back of his hand. The touch was so _easy_, so simple, and yet Kurt could not remember anything feeling better than this.

God, he was really in deep shit for developing feelings for Puck.

"Oh, me too," Puck said, nodding confidently. "I always wear sunscreen during the summertime. Well…I always wear it on the really _hot_ days."

Kurt chuckled, shaking his head. "You know, you really should wear sunscreen year round."

"Oh," Puck said flatly before he held the door to the passenger's side of his car open for Kurt.

The whole drive to Breadstix, Kurt really wanted to bring up some of his concerns to Puck, but every time he took a deep breath to begin speaking, Puck would sing along to a song he liked on the radio, and Kurt was memorized. Puck had such a smooth, sexy voice that had a deep rocker edge.

Puck liked to close his eyes whenever he belted out a long note; his brows furrowing and a vein on his neck poking out some, and Kurt had a strange yet intense desire to lick it. Puck drove with one hand while the other rested on his lap casually.

Kurt decided that he liked driving places with Puck.

##

When Kurt slid into the side of the booth opposite him, Puck frowned. "Why are you sitting over there?" Puck asked. "I made room from you over here." He patted the spot next to him and looked at Kurt expectantly.

Oh lord, Puck was asking for trouble. If they sat together and someone that knew them saw, the rumors would travel like a forest fire. Kurt worried his lower lip between his teeth as he dipped his head down, staring at his lap. "A lot of people from McKinley come here," he explained in a soft whisper.

Clearly Puck was not following; his eyebrows were raised high and his expression completely blank.

"If people see us together," Kurt continued, looking up at Puck through his dark lashes. "They're going to talk. They'll think you're gay."

Puck still looked confused for a moment, but then he laughed and shrugged his shoulders. "You think I care? Let people talk. It doesn't matter to me."

Okay, Puck _really_ didn't know what he was signing up for; that was if he actually _did_ want to be with Kurt. Getting thrown into a dumpster or a slushie in your face, while humiliating, was nothing compared to living in constant fear at school because of all of the sexual harassment and death threats. Puck couldn't deal with that; either he would just duck out in order to save his reputation, or he wouldn't and land himself in juvie again. This just could not work; it was not in the cards for them. Kurt narrowed his eyes and looked at Puck long and hard, as if he was seeing him for the very first time, and he leaned in across the table, whispering, "What is this all about? And please, be honest with me."

"Huh?" Puck asked, sounding positively bemused. "What is _what _all about?"

"I thought you liked _girls_," Kurt said, trying to keep his emotions at bay.

"Yeah, and?" Puck asked.

"And I'm a guy," Kurt answered.

Puck blinked at Kurt stupidly as he tried to connect the dots, tried to figure out why Kurt was asking him these kinds of questions. He rubbed his forehead nervously. "I thought we already went over this," Puck said, getting up from the booth. For one awful moment, Kurt thought that he was going to leave, but instead, Puck sat down right beside him and grabbed hold of Kurt's hand from beneath the table, giving it a small squeeze. "I know you're a guy; I'm not that dumb. But you being a guy hasn't stopped me yet." Puck massaged his temple, thought of the right words to say without sounding like a complete and utter pussy. Yeah, he might totally dig Kurt, but he was still a _manly_ man. "You being a guy hasn't affected any of the…crazy feelings I've been having lately, either. I mean, I _was _the one that asked you out in the first place," Puck reminded him. "I don't care what anyone has to say about us, and that includes the punks at McKinley."

He held Kurt's hand a little tighter in his, trying to put everything that he felt into the touch. "I just want—_need_—you to know that this isn't about _anything_; never was, never is gonna be. I'm not the guy everyone thinks I am. I know I can be a punk sometimes, but I've got other parts to me, too. Parts I don't show just _anyone_. I just want to spend some time with you, get to know you, and have you get to know me…the _real _me." He nudged Kurt playfully, and Kurt looked up at him with red rimmed eyes and a weak smile. "I mean, haven't you totally enjoyed hanging out with me?"

Kurt laughed and didn't even care how narcissistic Puck sounded. "I have." He really did hope that Puck was being honest with him; Kurt didn't know how well he could have survived a stab to his heart like that if this was all just one big act. "You've really been great to me."

"Well, you deserve it," Puck said simply, shrugging his shoulders. "So, have you decided what you're getting?"

##

It was definitely time for him to turn up the romance. "Want to try some of my fettuccini?" Puck asked, smiling seductively.

Kurt's eyebrows perked up in surprise. "Sure," he said, grabbing his fork, but Puck swatted his hand away playfully.

"No, allow me," he insisted, totally turning on his suaveness. Puck twirled some of his fettuccini nicely around his fork so that it wasn't hanging all over the place—Kurt wouldn't have appreciated that; if it got all over him, he would have freaked out. Once he got the slippery pasta around the fork after a couple of failed attempts, he held his fork out in front of Kurt's mouth and smiled. "Open up."

Kurt turned a bright red, his eyes wide as he shot a glance over his shoulder to make sure no one was looking at them before he slowly parted his lips.

Puck eased his fork into Kurt's mouth and watched as his lips closed around the creamy pasta, and immediately, really dirty thoughts flooded his mind as his pants started to grow tight. _Pull it together_, Puck told himself as he steadily pulled his fork out of Kurt's mouth and grinned slyly. "Good, right?"

Kurt nodded, his mind hazy.

"Oh, you got a little bit of fettuccini sauce on your lip," Puck said, and before Kurt could grab his napkin from his lap, Puck used the pad of his thumb to wipe away the sauce, brought it up to his mouth, and licked it off. "How's your food?"

"Wha—oh, um it's good," Kurt said breathlessly, his pale cheeks flushing violently, feeling like he had just died and gone to heaven.

"Well, well, well…what do we have here?" a voice called from beside them. Standing right by their booth was Karofsky and Azimio. "You got yourself a boyfriend now, Kurt?" Karofsky asked.

"I didn't know you were a homo, too, Puckerman," Azimio said.

"And to think," Karofsky continued. "All this time we _changed_ in front of him in the locker room. I bet he jerks off over us."

Where the hell did these two come from? Puck thought that Karofsky only dined at McDonald's and that Azimio was too cheap for a joint like Breadstix. "I think you two better leave," Puck told them flatly. Yeah, they better leave before Puck decided to knock them both out.

"What, so you two can have a make out session?" Karofsky asked as he high-fived Azimio.

"Don't push me, Karofsky," Puck said dangerously.

"Or what?" Azimio asked, cracking his knuckles.

Just as Puck was about to step out from the booth, Kurt grabbed his jacket and yanked him back down. "If you hit them, you'll land yourself in juvie again. They're not worth it," he whispered.

Puck thought that they certainly were worth it; maybe if he got a couple good poundings on them then they'd back off once and for all, but at the mention of juvie, he came to his senses.

"That's what we thought," Karofsky said, grinning.

Puck looked directly at Karofsky and Azimio, his voice low and dangerous as he said, "Look, you mess with my boy Kurt or I anymore, and I _will_ get people who actually can beat up your asses to do it for me, and that's a fucking promise."

"Your boy?" Azimio asked. "You mean your boyfriend?"

"They really are gay together!" Karofsky exclaimed.

"So what if we were?" Kurt asked, almost yelling from how furious he was. Kurt was sick and tired being treated this way just because of who he was. "That doesn't mean that we don't have the right to be happy, to _enjoy_ ourselves without having to worry about being tormented by you two."

Kurt's words went in one ear and out the other when it came to Karofsky and Azimio. "So, you really are his boyfriend?" Karofsky asked, his face scrunched up.

Puck had enough; he was going to punch both of them into next week. He didn't care if that meant he had to go to juvie, he was not putting up with this bullshit. But just as he bolted up, their waiter and the restaurant's manager rushed over, pushing Karofsky and Azimio away from their booth. "You're done here," the manager said, "Leave now or I will call the police. You are both banned from this restaurant."

"That's fine," Azimio said, almost in tears from laughter before he looked directly at Puck. "See you at school, homo."

For a while, neither of them said anything to each other. Puck was tense beside him, nearly shaking from anger, and Kurt didn't know what to do with himself other than try to calm his uneven breathing. It was only a matter of time before Karofsky and Azimio came around, trying to mess everything up that they slowly started to construct; Kurt just did not think that it'd be this soon. He inhaled deeply and said, "I'm sorry."

"Do you mind if we leave?" Puck asked, staring at his half-eaten food.

Oh God, Puck sounded pissed. "No, I don't," Kurt said, shaking his head, sounding a bit worried.

Puck flagged down the waiter, asked for some to-go boxes, paid for the meal, and left a really generous tip.

* * *

**Notes: **Sorry to end it there, but if I didn't, then this chapter was going to be about a billion words long (okay maybe 7,000-8,000 but whatever!). Let me know what you think! I'll update asap!


	5. Kiss

**Notes: **Hello again, guys! Thanks again for all the continued support and kind words! I am so blown away with how nice everyone has been! I actually posted the last chapter on my birthday right before I went out, and once I came back online, I was so pleased and happy that you all seemed to enjoy it! I hope you guys enjoy this chapter just as much! Kurt and Puck's relationship takes one major leap in the right direction in this, and finally we are one step closer to lemons. That is, if you guys want them! Let me know! :)

Anyways, enjoy!

* * *

_**Chapter Four—**_**Kiss**

**

* * *

**

"Where are we going?" Kurt asked quietly once they were safely inside of Puck's car. He sounded a little frightened, a bit timid, but mostly sad. He didn't bother looking up at Puck when he spoke; his head was bowed, and he was staring at his hands in his lap.

Puck's jaw clenched. He was furious. He didn't know how Karofsky and Azimio thought they had the right to do what they did, and laugh over it. If he couldn't enjoy himself outside of school without worrying about them getting up in his business, then Puck was definitely going to have to teach the two of them a lesson with a little help from his fists. "A place where we won't be interrupted," Puck muttered. "Especially by douches like them."

Kurt had to admit that Puck was scaring him a little. He had never seen this side of him before; the kind that had a quick temper and shut down whenever something went wrong. Sure, he and Puck had their arguments before—one was earlier that week—but this seemed so much worse. He didn't dare chance a glance at Puck out of fear of what his expression might read. He clutched his box of food, took a deep breath and said, "I'm sorry."

Now Puck wasn't only pissed off, he was also confused. "For what?"

"They're probably going to think we're together now," Kurt told him, staring out the window. "And I bet they'll make sure the whole school thinks we are as well by tomorrow."

"I don't care who thinks that," Puck said a little too quickly, although he was not positive if that was the complete truth. What just happened shook him up. He thought he could handle Karofsky and Azimio easily; what were a couple of meatheads to him? But now he wasn't so sure, and that worried him. He thought he was the kind of guy that didn't give a shit about what anyone thought or said. Puck cleared his throat loudly, not tearing his eyes from the dark road ahead. "It'll be fine."

Now he just had to believe that himself.

Puck drove them to a part of Lima that Kurt was not familiar with and pulled into a deserted park where he had never been. Kurt was certain they were breaking some kind of rule being here so late, but he didn't bother bringing it up to Puck who drove on. The park was covered with trees that were likely lush and lively during the spring and summer, but were now bare. Every couple of hundred feet, there was a playground or some kind of miniature-sized sports field for children to play on. Puck drove until he reached a part of the park where a couple of benches and tables sat beneath a pavilion; he pulled into the nearby lot and parked his car.

"Where are we?" Kurt asked, his head turning from side to side to take in the surroundings.

Puck took a deep breath and rubbed his forehead. "After my dad left, my mom used to take me and my sister here to play," he told Kurt. His eyes were staring at a jungle gym in the distance that was equipped with monkey bars and a tire swing—his two favorites. "I guess it was a way for us to forget about all of the crap that was going on in our lives; a place where we could come and just be kids again." He could remember pushing his sister on a swing, daring her to jump off even though she was far too young, telling her that no matter how far she could get, he'd always top her as his mother sat off to the side, crying silently. Puck pushed that memory back where it came from; in a deep, dark corner of his mind that he rarely ever visited. "Not a lot of people come here anymore, and since it's closed, I thought we could just finish our dinner here."

Before he could stop himself, Kurt turned to look at Puck, who still stared out of the windshield, and he smiled weakly. In a way, they really weren't so different, at least where their parents were concerned. Puck's dad might be alive, but he was still gone, gone like Kurt's mother was, and Puck was down one parent that should have been there. Kurt understood what that was like.

"I mean, if that's okay with you," Puck added quickly when Kurt did not say anything.

"It's fine with me."

##

"You know," Kurt said once he finished off his food, "I admire you for what you did at Breadstix. Karofsky and Azimio are your teammates; I know it couldn't have been easy for you to stick up for me like that to them."

Actually, at the time it was extremely easy; it was the _right _thing to do, even Puck knew that. But now he couldn't help imagining what was going to happen because of what he did. It wasn't that he regretted it—he'd never regret it and he'd do it again if he had to—he just wished it never happened in the first place. Puck closed his to-go box up, stabbed it with his plastic fork, and pushed it to the side. "Can you keep a secret?" he asked, looking at Kurt from the corner of his eyes. When he nodded, Puck took a deep breath, licked his lips, and then continued, "I didn't realize until Mercedes pointed it out to me, but I don't like being a bully. Never really did, I guess. It's not cool, and it's not right." Puck turned to Kurt and looked at him directly. "There was no way in hell I was just going to sit there and let them make fun of me _or _you."

Kurt's breath hitched in the back of his throat and his stomach felt like it was doing backflips, and he finally started to believe that Puck might be someone that he could possibly trust. Puck _could _protect him, keep him safe, and make sure that Karofsky didn't get too close. "I shouldn't have doubted you," Kurt finally managed to say weakly; sincerely hoping that he was not going to end up eating his words.

Puck slid down the bench so that he was right beside Kurt, their thighs and arms touching before he brought his hand tentatively to Kurt's face. His fingertips lightly drifted across his forehead and down along his cheek until he finally stopped under Kurt's chin, gently tilting his head up, looking into his wide eyes. Puck could feel Kurt's warm, uneven breath on his face. He didn't move; he gave Kurt time to push him away if he wanted to, but once a couple seconds had passed and Kurt was still sitting there, waiting patiently, Puck moved in to give him what he had been wanting.

Just as his lips ghosted less than an inch from Kurt's, the darkness was broken by flashing police lights.

"Fuck," Puck swore under his breath as he reluctantly pulled away from Kurt. Puck got up from the bench, nearly falling on his face as he tripped over his feet. "Act natural," he whispered over his shoulder.

Kurt nodded, tossed one leg over the bench and rested his elbow on the table, looking quite comical. "Is he going to arrest us?" he whispered.

"If he tries to, then I'm going to kick him in the nuts," Puck said, putting his hands up in the air like people did in the movies.

"Yeah, because that's _totally_ going to help us," Kurt spat back sarcastically.

"Shush, he's getting out of his car now," Puck told him, shifting his eyes back and forth between Kurt and the cop.

The policeman that got out of the car was a basic run-of-the-mill officer. He had a thick neck, a gut that stuck out slightly, and a really awful mustache. He put his hands on his hips as he slowly approached Puck and Kurt, shining his flashlight into each of their faces. "What are you two up to?"

"Just hanging out," Puck said, shrugging with his hands still in the air.

"You can put your hands down, boy, I didn't tell you to put 'em up," the cop said, sounding cocky, chuckling to himself. "You all know that the park is closed, right?"

Kurt didn't say anything, he just looked at Puck.

Puck totally knew what to do at a time like this—play dumb. "Oh, it is?"

"Yes," the cop said, nodding.

"I didn't know that parks closed," Puck said, looking at his feet. "We're not in trouble, are we? We really didn't know."

The cop looked at Puck, then to Kurt, and finally back to Puck, his flashlight moving with his eyes. "I'll let you guys go with a warning this time," he said, "All parks in this area close at dusk. Keep that in mind for next time."

"We will," Puck said confidently, feeling victorious.

"Thank you," Kurt squeaked.

They didn't say anything to each other until the cop drove out of sight. "Well, that was lucky," Puck said releasing a deep sigh.

"It was," Kurt agreed. "Now can we go before he comes back?"

"Of course, sweet thing," Puck said, winking before he took Kurt's hand in his.

##

While he was driving Kurt back to Dalton Academy, he debated with himself about whether or not he should try and kiss Kurt goodnight. Puck had to admit that he was totally missing getting _some _kind of action—it had been a whole week, and still, nothing. Kurt also didn't pull away when Puck tried to advance on him, but was tonight the right time to do it?

He was totally losing it if he was reconsidering getting his mack on.

Puck walked Kurt up to the front of the school, their arms linked together like he was walking Kurt down an aisle to get married. He really could not decide; should he kiss Kurt, or should he wait? If he kissed him, how hard would Kurt kick him in the nuts, or would he even at all? If he kissed him, would he end up humping Kurt because his dry spell had lasted way too long?

That was totally a possibility.

Kurt's cheeks were rosy from the chilled air, and Puck noticed that he had a light dusting of freckles over the bridge of his nose. They were so close that he could count Kurt's eyelashes, and he stared at the gentle upward curve of Kurt's lips.

"Thanks for tonight," Kurt said, smiling up at Puck.

"Sure thing, I had fun," Puck told him, and since he didn't really know what to do with himself, he took one step closer, pulling Kurt into a hug, his arms holding him around the small of his back. If he wanted to, he could just reach down a little bit and squeeze his ass cheeks…

Puck's whole body tensed, his eyes the size of coins, and he quickly pulled away. Just the thought of Kurt's ass turned him on, and Puck tried to casually disguise the growing bulge in his pants by putting his hands in front of his crotch. "I'll text you later," he said, nodding.

Kurt's face fell slightly. "Alright, see you later."

Puck nearly ran to his car.

He was such a pussy for not kissing Kurt.

##

He got a phone call from Mr. Schuester on the way home. "Am I suspended or something?" Puck asked, sounding a little confused. It was one thing for him to call a teacher, but it was just plain creepy for a teacher to call him outside of school hours, even if it was Mr. Schue.

"What? No. Why would you be suspended?" Mr. Schue asked on the other line, sounding incredibly suspicious.

"Nevermind," Puck said quickly. What Mr. Schuester didn't know wouldn't hurt him. "What's up?"

"How did tonight go?" he inquired.

"Huh?"

"You know, dinner with Kurt?" Mr. Schue reminded him, and then exhaled heavily. "Please tell me you used the money for Breadstix and not something stupid for yourself."

Puck couldn't help it. He was a little slow on the uptake when he was driving. "Oh, _that_, yeah we totally went out tonight," Puck told him, followed by a long, awkward silence. "I mean…like…yeah, I used the money for Breadstix tonight with Kurt."

Mr. Schue breathed a sigh of relief. "So, are you making any headway?"

"Duh," Puck said, chuckling. "I told you totally I had this in the bag."

"Great, when's he coming back? Tomorrow or Monday?"

Puck sighed. The closer he got to Kurt, the more worried he became that this was going to come back and bite him in the ass. If Kurt knew that one of the reasons why he came to see him in the first place was to get him back at McKinley, Puck was sure Kurt would never talk to him again, and he didn't want that. He cleared his throat, "Er, neither day."

"Tuesday?"

Puck pursed his lips. "I am not sure when Kurt's coming back, Mr. Schue," he confessed.

"What? But you just said you had this in the bag," Mr. Schuester said.

"It's just taking a bit longer than I thought it would, okay?" Puck told him, his voice displaying a tinge of frustration. He did not want to have this conversation. "I'm still trying, though," he added, hoping to regain some of Mr. Schuester's confidence in him.

"Will you be able to get him back by Regionals?"

Why couldn't he just be honest with Mr. Schuester? Why couldn't he just say that he tried, but now he didn't care where Kurt went to school, as long as he was happy? Why couldn't he admit that the thing he wanted most was to get _with_ Kurt, not necessarily get him back?

"Totally, Mr. Schuester."

He really didn't like himself right now.

##

Puck did not even make it to geometry class the next day; he was sent to his house, lucky that it wasn't to an emergency room, or worse, juvie. He had one nasty black eye that he tossed a bag of frozen corn on, and busted knuckles from punching Karofsky back.

It happened that morning when he arrived on campus. Karofsky was waiting outside his locker with a couple of football players standing nearby. As Puck approached the group, Karofsky had a ridiculous grin plastered on his face, called him a faggot, and asked Puck if he had to pay Kurt to suck his cock, or if he gave it up for free. Puck's only response was his swift fist to Karofsky's nose as he tackled him to the ground.

He somehow managed to talk himself out of ending up in juvie by the sheer grace of God. He explained to Figgins about how Karofsky treated Kurt before he transferred, what went down last night at Breadstix, and what Karofsky said to him that morning. Figgins agreed that Karofsky instigated him, but only received a three-day suspension when he really should have gotten expelled ages ago.

Puck thought that he should probably text Kurt to tell him what happened, but he didn't want to worry him. He was fine—more than fine because he finally gave Karofsky what he deserved.

As it turns out, he didn't even have to tell Kurt. Somehow, he already knew.

"_You got into a fight with Karofsky_?" Kurt texted him once Puck found a channel on the television that he liked.

"_How do you know_?" Puck responded, hoping Kurt wasn't psychic or something.

"_Mercedes told me. What happened_?"

Now he had a little bone to pick with Mercedes. "_Nothing much_."

"_Tell me_," Kurt demanded.

There was no way that Puck was going to tell Kurt _exactly _what Karofsky said, not even if Kurt really _did_ bribe him with a blowjob, although that was pretty damn tempting. He cared about Kurt too much. "_It's not important_."

"_Fine, then you can just tell me once I'm at your place,_" Kurt texted back stubbornly.

"_Huh? You're in Westerville_." What the hell was Kurt talking about?

"_I'm coming over. I'm ten minutes away from your house._"

"_Don't you have class_?" Puck asked, and then he looked down to make sure that what he was wearing was mildly presentable.

"_I pretended to be sick_," Kurt responded.

"_And they believed you_?"

"_Obviously._"

Badass.

In a couple of minutes, there was a knock at the door. Despite how comfortable Puck was, he heaved himself up off the couch and trundled toward the door, unclicked the lock, and pulled the door open.

Kurt inhaled sharply when he saw Puck's black eye and pushed his way inside the house. "Have you been using ice?" he asked, searching Puck's place for the kitchen.

"Yeah, of course," Puck said, holding up the bag of frozen corn.

His eyes fell upon the bag, his expression blank. "That…does not count as icing your eye," Kurt said, sighing heavily as he hustled into the kitchen, right to the refrigerator. "Go sit down; I'll get the ice."

Puck was totally into Kurt being in charge, and if he was going to play doctor for him, well, Puck was definitely not going to object.

In less than a minute, Kurt hurried back to where he left Puck with a bag of ice wrapped with a towel. He sat down next to Puck and patted his lap. "Lie down and put your head here," he instructed.

His head on Kurt's lap? Yeah, he was totally down with that. Slowly, Puck eased himself to lie on his back and nestled his head against Kurt's thighs that were surprisingly comfortable to lie on. He could hear his own heart beating a mile a minute, and hoped that Kurt couldn't hear it either as he leaned over his head or gently lowered the bag of ice onto the bruised eye. Kurt's touch was extremely soft, tracing light lines across Puck's forehead in a soothing pattern.

Puck was pretty sure that he could totally fall asleep now if he stopped thinking about what kind of holy land was just beneath his head, and how badly he wanted to explore it even if he was a little worse for wear.

"How long do we have to ice it?" Puck asked before he started to hum "Ice Ice Baby" purely out of habit.

Kurt rolled his eyes. He hated that song, and Vanilla Ice totally stole the music from Queen and Bowie, but that was neither here nor there. "Fifteen minutes on, fifteen minutes off," Kurt told him, applying the tiniest amount of pressure to Puck's eye with the bag of ice. "Feel any better?"

"Well, it's kind of numb now," Puck said, poking the skin around his eye. It was all extremely cold to the touch, and he didn't feel much in the way of pain, if at all. "I can't feel it."

"I suppose that's an improvement," Kurt said, keeping the ice pressed down to Puck's bruise. "So, tell me what happened. Mercedes didn't give me details; she said I had to come to you for that," he finished, looking at Puck expectantly.

Puck took a deep breath, "It's just the usual with Karofsky," he said, leaving it at that. Puck really did not want Kurt to have the details; he couldn't help thinking that it'd probably be best if he didn't know what they were.

Kurt moved the bag of ice so that it was more around his eye socket, right where that fucker Karofsky nailed him good, and Puck hissed a bit at the sudden cold. "Did he say anything?" Kurt asked as he gently rubbed the side of Puck's face, trying to get him to relax some.

Kurt touching Puck didn't make him free relaxed or soothed; it made him feel incredibly turned on, and that was about it. He felt Kurt's fingertips gently run across his head, and heat rose in his cheeks as his stomach twisted and turned. Puck wasn't used to this kind of touching; he was used to sex, the kind that was never too personal. Kurt's intimate gestures were innocent, yet totally hot. Puck could definitely get used to this.

Just as he imagined Kurt's hand lightly drifting over other sensitive areas, Kurt cleared his throat and repeated himself a little louder, "Did he say anything to you?"

"Who?" Puck asked, lightheaded.

Kurt applied a bit more pressure to Puck's eye, thinking that the punch somehow affected his brain. "Karofsky. What did Karofsky say to you?"

"Oh, him," Puck said, sighing heavily. Gosh, he really didn't want to tell Kurt the truth, it'd only hurt him, and that was the last thing that Puck wanted. His mind traveled a mile a minute, thinking up a viable alternative for what Karofsky could have said that would have merited a punch. "He was standing by my locker, waiting for me, called me a fag in front of everyone, and asked if we've like…_done stuff_ yet."

Half of the truth was better than none of the truth, right?

Kurt's jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing. He did not want Puck to be dragged into this mess with Karofsky, but now it seemed that had already happened.

"I got him suspended for three days," Puck said proudly, wiggling the eyebrow that was not covered by ice.

"You did?" Kurt asked incredulously.

"Damn straight, and when he comes back, I hope he finds me so I can get his ass expelled," Puck told him. He desperately wanted the satisfaction of being the agent behind Karofsky getting kicked out of McKinley, and then Kurt could come back and everything would be gravy.

Kurt looked worried, frowning. "But what if he hurts you again?"

"Then I have you," Puck said, reaching up, tapping the tip of Kurt's nose with his fingertip, grinning widely, "To take care of me."

Kurt looked into Puck's eyes—well, his _eye_—for a moment before the corners of his lips curved up into a small smile. Without breaking his gaze, Kurt lifted up the ice from Puck's eye and set it to the side.

"It's already been fifteen minutes?" Puck asked, slowly opening his bruised eye.

Kurt didn't bother answering Puck; he leaned down and kissed him before he could talk himself out of it. Puck released a shocked noise that was muffled against Kurt's lips, but he did not pull away; Puck did just the opposite, snaking his hand around the nape of Kurt's neck, trying to be even closer to him.

This was the way a kiss was supposed to go, not like the one he had with Brittany, and _especially_ not with Karofsky. Puck's tender lips moved against Kurt's effortlessly, as if they had been kissing each other for years. It was eager, yet innocent, and Kurt relished in the moment,_ this_ moment, that he had been patiently waiting for his whole life: his first kiss that _meant _something.

And he couldn't have asked for a better one.

When Kurt broke their kiss, his eyes were wide and curious. Puck had about a million questions for Kurt himself, but he didn't have time to ask any of them right now. He sat up quickly, tossing one leg over Kurt's lap as he straddled his hips. Puck cupped both sides of Kurt's face with his hands and kissed him full on the mouth, and it was even more amazing than the last. It was desperate and sincere; Puck's mouth tasted both minty and sweet. Tentatively, he brought his hands up to Puck's chest, running them along his toned body through his shirt as he felt Puck's tongue swipe his bottom lip, begging for passage.

Just as Kurt was about to part his lips, he heard a shriek and he quickly pulled away from Puck. Standing in the doorway was a young girl with dark hair and eyes like Puck. Her fists were balled up near her mouth, a look of shock with a tinge of disgust on her face. Puck looked over at her and rolled his eyes. "What are you looking at?" he asked playfully, and Kurt swatted his thigh.

"Why are you kissing a _boy_?" his sister asked. "Kissing is gross."

There was nothing gross about kissing Kurt, in Puck's eyes. "Go to your room," Puck barked, watching her run down the hall, and then waited for the slam of her door.

"I can't believe I just got cockblocked by my sister," Puck said miserably.

Kurt cleared his throat and fixed his tousled hair. "We should probably ice your eye again," he said, yanking the bag of ice out from in between the cushions of the couch.

"But I want to make out some more," Puck protested, his lower lip sticking out, pouting.

"Well, maybe we can later," Kurt said, his cheeks turning pink as he patted his lap again. "I'm in Lima for the weekend."


	6. A Time to be Honest

**Notes: **So, jealous!Blaine is in this chapter a lot. He's probably a bit out of character in this chapter since he's so laid back on the show, but (in my opinion) he's also pretty two-dimensional on the show thus far, and frankly, I think that Blaine would be a bit distressed if Puck was coming onto Kurt. I just hope no one thinks my Blaine is evil. _;; :D~

I thought that I'd get this chapter out a lot sooner than I did, so I apologize for the delay. There is so much going on in this one that it was just a bit difficult for me jumping from one situation to another, and it's also a bit longer than my other one, albeit not by much. The chapters will probably just be getting longer since things are getting messier, but I hope it was worth the wait nonetheless! :)

Some other Warblers are introduced in this chapter. One (Nick) is an actual Warbler from the show, the rest I made up. Two of them are from chapter four (Jeff and Gideon who auditioned with Kurt), while the rest are new to this chapter. They were all inspired by people I know, although their names have all been changed, obviously. You'll see more of the guys in the next chapter.

* * *

_**Chapter 6**_**—A Time to be Honest**

**

* * *

**

"So, did you find out where Kurt is?" Blaine asked, massaging his aching temples. He, Wes, and David were huddled together around one of the several fireplaces in the senior commons, all with the same pained expression etched across their faces. Earlier that day, Kurt said he was coming down with a fever, only to then disappear out of nowhere, leaving his dormitory unusually messy with drawers half-closed and hangers astray in his partially empty closet.

Wes and David exchanged worried glances, both sighing heavily and shuffling their feet against the soft carpet. "Uh, I don't know how to tell you this," Wes said hesitantly, cracking his fingers out of nervous habit.

Blaine rolled his eyes impatiently. "Just tell me," he breathed, dreading the news.

"He went back to Lima for the weekend," Wes muttered, not meeting Blaine's gaze.

"To spend time with that kid with the mohawk," David added, promptly ignoring the _you-weren't-supposed-to-tell-him-__**that**__-part_ look that Wes was giving him. Blaine _did_ ask, so David was going to tell him the truth.

The expression on Blaine's face was equivalent to what one might be sporting had they just found out that their childhood pet died. "They're going to be together the whole weekend?"

David shrugged. "I dunno, probably?"

Blaine's head dropped into his hands. He did not want to miss out on the chance of possibly winning over Kurt, _especially _to that punk Puckerman. He had to think of something; he refused to just let Kurt go, not when they had so much chemistry.

Suddenly, as if someone magically put the idea in his head, Blaine blurted out, "You two have any plans for the weekend?"

"No way, Blaine," David answered, already having an inkling of what his friend was thinking of doing.

"We'd do anything for you, but we won't do that," Wes added, feeling a little like Meatloaf as he chuckled to himself.

Blaine shot up from where he was seated, his hands on his hips, half-frustrated half-amused. "David, remember all those hours I tutored you for your calculus class? You even said you would have failed without my help! And Wes—all those times I helped you pick out gifts for your girlfriend that helped you to eventually _get laid_?" Blaine was making such a spectacle of himself that _he _was almost in fits of laughter, just like Wes and David. "We're going to Lima, and we're going to crash whatever that guy has planned with Kurt."

"Well," David reflected thoughtfully, "that _could_ be fun."

"Except for the fact that we don't _know_ anyone that lives in Lima besides Kurt," Wes reminded them, always the logical one amongst the three. "Who are we going to stay with?"

"We'll stay at a hotel," Blaine told them simply, already one step ahead. His brain was working a mile a minute; he had nearly all the details planned out.

"Are we even old enough to do that?" David inquired aloud. "Don't we have to at least be twenty or something?"

"I thought it was twenty-five," Wes butted in.

"No, I think that's how old you have to be to rent a car," David told him before his brows furrowed, contemplating what he just said before he added, "…maybe."

"Who cares?" Blaine interjected over their conversation, settling back down onto the leather chair. "We can serenade the girl behind the desk. She'll let us in without a doubt."

Wes and David considered Blaine's proposition with blank looks on their faces, and slowly, their lips turned up into wide smirks as they high-fived each other. "We're in," Wes said for the both of them.

"Oh, and by the way," David said. "We heard that he's going out tomorrow night with his New Directions friends." He glanced over to Wes who nodded, confirming the same information. They truly were really good spies.

"What are they going to do?" Blaine asked curiously.

Together, Wes and David said only two words: "Laser tag."

Blaine's face scrunched up in bewilderment before he released a hearty chuckle. "Laser tag?" he repeated, almost feeling sorry for Puck, who clearly did not know Kurt as well as Blaine himself did. There was no way in hell Kurt would enjoy an activity like laser tag; he'd have to wear equipment that wasn't the most sanitary in the world and would probably get his clothes dirty, not to mention running around, getting all sweaty and messing up his hair. "Well, looks like we're not having as much fun as I thought we would this weekend."

"At least it's not bowling?" Wes offered.

"True," Blaine said, grimacing.

David clapped his hands together. He liked the idea of laser tag and still enjoyed it to this day—mostly because he was really great at shooting games. "So, when are we leaving?"

"Tomorrow afternoon," Blaine said, "that way we have plenty of time to pack, and get a decent hotel."

"Sounds like a plan."

##

Puck's head was rested on Kurt's lap again, the bag of ice back on his eye. The continued cooling of his skin was starting to get a little uncomfortable; his flesh had a raw feeling to it, but Kurt assured him that the swelling was almost completely gone.

If it were totally up to Puck, he'd live with the bruise no matter how gross it looked or how long it lasted if that meant that he could continue making out with Kurt the rest of the night, but Kurt didn't want to get "all intimate" when Puck's sister could walk in one them at any moment. Puck honestly didn't care about that; if she decided to come out of her room and catch them in the middle of something, then that was her problem, not his.

"You're incorrigible," Kurt told him through the smirk he was trying vehemently to disguise as he took the ice off for another fifteen minutes.

Puck had no idea what that word meant, but he guessed it wasn't a compliment. "It's not my fault you're such a good kisser," he protested, pouting a little bit as he stuck out his lower lip, hoping that Kurt would get the hint.

And thankfully, Kurt did not disappoint. He shot one glance toward the hall that led to Puck's sister's room and noticed that her door was still closed with a fuzzy pink "do not disturb" sign that appeared to be hand-made hanging from the knob.

"She won't come out for nothing," Puck told him, nodding his head towards his sister's room. "She's catching up on some iCarly episodes she's missed. She loves that show more than life itself."

Kurt flashed him one look of pure confusion before he leaned over, placed his palms on Puck's shoulders, and kissed him softly. His lips were warm, but the majority of the rest of Puck's face was cold from the ice, causing a shiver to trickle down Kurt's spine.

"Can I stay here with you tonight?" Kurt asked, his lips less than an inch away from Puck's, his eyes still closed.

"I don't think that's such a good idea," Puck said tentatively. He wanted to say yes—actually a _fuck yes_was probably more likely—but he also knew that he had next to no self-control. If they got to spend a whole night together with just the two of them, his mom working late and his sister glued to her television, Puck knew something would happen. He didn't want Kurt agreeing to something that he'd later regret just because Puck really wanted to get down with his bad self. "Besides, you need to see your family," he continued. Kurt had a great family that he missed and a father who really gave a damn about him. Puck didn't want to jeopardize that by monopolizing Kurt's time.

Kurt nodded, knowing that Puck was right, but still feeling a little let down.

"But maybe I could swing by your place later?" Puck offered, shrugging his shoulders, goofy smile playing at his lips. "You know, like once everyone's gone to sleep?" That way he'd avoid being interrogated by Burt, and he was all about that.

Without knowing whether or not Finn's room was completed yet, Kurt blurted out, "That sounds great."

"We're not having sex though," Puck quickly added, "and that's final."

"What?" Kurt asked, his face as blank as a newly stretched canvas. Kurt's expression stayed that way so long that Puck was a little worried that it was going to look like that forever until Kurt finally released an airy laugh. "I was not going to have sex with you tonight in the first place," he said proudly, his head tilting up slightly.

"Uh huh, sure," Puck said, rolling his eyes.

"No, I'm serious, I wasn't," Kurt told him, his smile growing wider by the second.

"Oh," Puck muttered, clearing his throat audibly as he tried to look anywhere but at Kurt. Puck started to have a mini-panic attack; was Kurt _not _attracted to him _like that_? No, there was no way. Kurt had to like him—what else would explain all the crazy things he was feeling, and the way Kurt kissed him back? But no one ever said no to Puck before when it came to sex. Sure, he didn't really _ask _Kurt flat out, but he didn't need to, did he? Kurt denied him before he even got the chance to.

Was Puck losing his touch since he hadn't had sex in so long? One week was an awful lengthy dry spell for a guy like him…

"It's not that I don't _want_ to," Kurt told him, secretly enjoying how flustered Puck got over the whole ordeal. "I'm just not ready for that yet."

For a second, Puck didn't do or say anything. Then, once what Kurt said finally clicked in his mind, he sighed, "_Ooooooh_, okay," sounding incredibly relieved before he added, "So, you're like…a virgin?"

"Yes," Kurt said slowly, his eyes narrow, trying not to sound worried for Puck's intelligence. "I am."

Well, damn. Puck did think that _maybe _Kurt was a virgin, but he hoped he was wrong. It wasn't that being a virgin was a bad thing, but the last one he was with ended up getting knocked up. Well, at least that couldn't happen with Kurt since he was a dude.

"I should probably go," Kurt finally said, breaking the awkward silence. "It's getting late and Friday night dinners are kind of a thing for my family."

"Yeah, and I need to make my sister something that is remotely edible," Puck said mostly to himself, looking sadly upon the pantry in the kitchen.

"You cook?" Kurt asked.

Puck shrugged. "Not really. I mean, I _can _make some things, but nothing too fancy," he explained as he pushed himself up from the couch, taking the melting pack of ice with him. "I do make some mean mac n' cheese."

Kurt laughed, wanting to ask in what way his macaroni was mean, but decided against it. "I'll text you once everyone's gone to bed," Kurt told him as he gathered up his bag, hitching it on his shoulder.

"Hold on a sec," Puck said, stomping out into the living room with an opened box of macaroni in one hand. Kurt, who had one hand on the doorknob, turned around. "Aren't you going to kiss me goodbye?"

He walked back over to Puck, leaned in and kissed him briefly, and then hustled out of the house towards his car.

Puck touched his lips where Kurt's just were, still feeling Kurt's smile through the kiss.

He totally wasn't losing it.

##

"It can't just be us that go," David said thoughtfully once they were back in Blaine's dorm room, finishing up some homework. "I mean, if all of the New Directions kids show up…they've got what? Twelve members? Against us three? We wouldn't be doing much crashing with numbers like that."

"David does have a point," Wes sighed, looking up from his textbook. "If this is going to work the way you want it to, more people are going to have to come with us."

Blaine's eyes were sharp and focused as he nodded. "You guys are right, but who else do you guys think will come?"

His two friends were silent for a moment or two before Wes said, "We can ask that new kid Jeff! I mean, he knows he's a great singer, but he's still a little desperate to fit in since he's new."

"We can make it sound like he'll be one of us as long as he joins us," David added, grinning wide. "It'll also be a good way to get to know the guy, make sure he's not psycho or anything."

"How about Nick?" Blaine asked. "He never seems to be too busy on the weekends."

Wes and David looked at each other. "The one that auditioned five times in a row and still didn't get in?" David asked.

"No, it was six times," Wes corrected.

Blaine sighed. "He doesn't have to have a solo or anything. He can just do back-up."

"Wait," David interrupted. "Are you planning on crashing them by singing?"

"Naturally," Blaine told him simply, smirking at Wes. "That way we can also psyche them out before Regionals."

"Then Nick would be better just swaying in the background," David sighed.

"Whatever, he's going," Blaine said. "Now, who else?"

Wes lips pursed. "Well, while we're bringing the new kid, we might as well ask the other one to come along. Think his name's Gideon?"

Blaine nodded. "Yeah, I like his taste in music." Both he and Gideon were not afraid of getting in front of a crowd of guys to sing a Katy Perry song. He knew that took courage and Gideon had some. "How about Trevor?"

"But he's a super senior," Wes explained, looking at Blaine as if he had just grown another head. "Meaning he's failed a whole year's worth of classes."

"So? It doesn't matter if he's not smart. He still sings great," David responded. "That makes seven Warblers so far, including us."

Blaine looked through his Warbler catalog that was sent out at the beginning of the year, just in case he had to make some calls for last-minute rehearsals. "I'll ask Daniel and Anthony. You know Daniel wouldn't turn down an opportunity to sing in front of an audience no matter who it is comprised of, and Anthony is always up for a challenge."

"What about Marcus?" Wes asked.

"No, he's weird," David answered.

"What? Just because he wears a little bit of makeup every now and then and sings _Burning Down the House_ by Talking Heads at the top of his lungs every time we throw a party?" Wes inquired all in one breath.

David stared at Wes. "Uh, yes, that would be why."

"Yeah, but he sings really well," Wes muttered, rolling his eyes. "And maybe if we ask him really nicely, he'll ditch the eyeliner and lip gloss."

"Whatever," David sighed. "He can sway with Nick."

"Grant?" Blaine asked, his voice monotonous.

"No."

"Absolutely not."

"Is he even a Warbler anymore?"

"I thought he was kicked out on account of how much of a dick he is."

"He's still a Warbler, guys," Blaine said. "But he's probably going to leave if he's not included in this."

"And this is a problem why?" Wes asked.

"Because we need him," Blaine explained. "I know no one likes him, but he can put on a wicked performance. He's got stage presence like Freddie Mercury."

"Thankfully he doesn't also wear those hot pants like Freddie did," David said, grimacing.

"Fine, we'll ask him," Wes said, giving in. "But I still hope he gets sick or something and can't make it."

Blaine counted how many names he had on the list he was writing up. "So, that's eleven Warblers…that is, if they all say yes."

"Oh, they'll say yes," David said, laughing.

"Or we'll tell them they won't get any solos this year," Wes finished, high-fiving David.

It might have been harsh, but sometimes bribery was the only way the Warblers got anything done. No matter how advanced their school might be, at the end of the day, it was still comprised of teenagers, and the Warblers had no adult director. The three of them had to find some way to get everyone to work together for the greater good of the team.

And Blaine was willing to do it, especially if it helped him win over Kurt.

"Alright, I'll ask the two new kids, Nick, and Grant since neither of you are fans of his," Blaine said, circling their names on his list. "David, you ask Daniel and Anthony, and Wes, if you asked Marcus and Trevor, that'd be great."

"Let's ask Tim, too," Wes added. "He's normal, and there's not a whole lot of normal coming with us tomorrow."

"Yeah, then I won't feel like the token black guy," David said, nodding.

Blaine scribbled Tim's name on the list. "Okay, fine. One of you ask him, it doesn't matter which. Tell everyone to pack tonight and that we're leaving tomorrow no later than one o'clock."

The three of them left Blaine's dorm room, each going in separate directions, yet all on the same mission: to get Warblers together to freak out New Directions.

And get Kurt back, of course, but that was more of a personal one only for Blaine.

##

When Finn's even, easy snoring was the only sound that filled the room; Kurt unplugged his phone from its charger and found Puck's number. "_You can come over now. Everyone's asleep_."

A couple seconds later, Puck wrote back, "_Good, I'll literally be outside your room in two seconds, so open your door._"

"_Huh_?" Things like time-traveling did not exist in the real world. How could Puck get to his house so quickly when he lived at least fifteen minutes away?

"_I got kinda bored, so I've been waiting outside for an hour._"

"_But I didn't see a car outside_."

"_Duh, I parked a block away and turned off my headlights_." Puck was a master at sneaking over late at night; he had it down to a science.

Before Kurt could text him back, there was a tap at his door. There were two ways of exiting his room; one was up the basement stairs, and the other was through glass French doors that Kurt insisted needed to be installed, just in case there was a fire upstairs and he couldn't make it out of the house safely. Kurt motioned for Puck to keep his voice down and gently unlocked the door. "Be quiet," Kurt whispered, shooting a quick glance over his shoulder. "Finn's sleeping."

"_You share a room with Finn_?" Puck asked, getting up on his tiptoes, trying to look past Kurt to see if he was really being serious about Finn being there.

"_Yes_, now keep your voice down," Kurt said, grabbing Puck's hand, yanking him inside his room before he closed the door and locked it back up.

Puck looked around the room, devilish smirk on his face. "Where is he? I wanna cannonball into his bed. It'll scare the crap out of him."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "He's over there," he said, pointing behind some hanging curtains that doubled as a pseudo-wall. "And you are not going to jump on him. He'll be so loud that my father will hear, and you'll be kicked out and I'll be grounded for the rest of the weekend."

"Fine," Puck sighed, his face falling a bit. "So, where's your bed?" Puck always liked seeing the rooms of the people he was with; each one said something about who the person was. And he definitely wanted to know everything he could about Kurt.

"Over there," Kurt said, pointing at the side of the room opposite where Finn slept.

Kurt's side of the room was very clean, organized, and everything went together perfectly. Clothes were everywhere; he didn't keep them hidden in a closet or folded in drawers, but they hung out on fashion racks as if they were still being displayed in a store.

Puck nodded his approval. "Looks like it came out of a catalog." He glanced around some more and didn't see any extra blankets, or an air mattress. "Where am I going to sleep?" he asked, dropping his duffle bag down on the floor.

"Well," Kurt started, his brows raised. "My bed's big enough for the both of us."

"Oh," Puck said, glancing back toward where Finn slept.

Kurt followed Puck's eyes and sighed. "He's not going to notice. He sleeps like a log and always wakes up late."

"Alright, I'm down," Puck said before he leapt onto the bed, pulling Kurt along with him. Kurt fell right on top of him, and Puck wiggled a bit underneath him so that Kurt's knee was now in between his legs and not digging into his hip bone.

His hands were placed at the small of Kurt's back, lips latched onto his pale neck. Kurt was making all kinds of sweet noises; muffled and strained so that he knew he wouldn't wake Finn up, his eyes closed and his mouth open. When Puck's curious hands wandered downward to cup his ass and squeezed, Kurt released a high-pitched squeak before he clapped his hand over his mouth, his eyes wide.

"He's still asleep," Puck reassured him, thrusting his hips up, loving how Kurt had to bite down on his lip to keep from making any noises. "Just keep it down."

"Then don't touch," Kurt started, reaching behind him, peeling Puck's hands off his round cheeks, "me there, or _anywhere_ below my belly button."

Puck swiped his tongue along Kurt's earlobe, and then gently nibbled it; his fingers finding the collar of Kurt's shirt, popping open the first couple of buttons. He crushed his lips against Kurt's soft ones; sliding his tongue past Kurt's parted lips to explore his warm mouth.

"What the hell?" a sleep-muffled voice muttered from the foot of Kurt's bed.

Kurt leapt off of Puck's body faster than a bat out of hell, his eyes the size of quarters, and his heart beating faster than a hummingbird's.

"Why's he here?" Finn asked, pointing weakly toward Puck.

"Is he sleepwalking?" Puck whispered to Kurt, who simply shook his head.

Finn's eyes traveled back and forth between Puck and Kurt, his expression one of sheer confusion. "You're gay?" he finally managed, looking right at Puck.

Puck glanced at Kurt who frowned and looked apologetic, his lips still slightly swollen. He knew that this was a moment where he could make it or break it with Kurt; was he man enough to tell the truth to his best friend that still seemed to be a bit of a homophobe, or was he going to chicken out? Puck looked back and Finn, smirked, and shrugged his shoulders. "I'm Kurt-sexual."

Kurt's head fell in his hands, trying to hide his laughter.

"What?" Finn asked, not quite catching on. "What does that even mean?"

Puck sighed. "Look, dude, you're half-asleep. How about let's just talk about this tomorrow?"

Finn's face scrunched up as his temper rose. "I'm wake now; tell me what the hell is going on," he demanded. He was always the last to know everything, but this time, he refused to let that happen. "Right now."

"Fine," Puck said, rolling his eyes before he turned back to Kurt. "I'm going to talk to him outside, okay?" When Kurt nodded, Puck flashed him a warm smile and squeezed his shoulder. "Be back in a minute."

The two boys walked out of the door that Puck came in from prior and he led Finn to the sidewalk where he knew that no one would overhear them, including Kurt. This had to be a conversation just between him and his best friend.

"So, would you like to explain why you were _kissing_ my…my…_step-brother_?" Finn asked, grimacing slightly at how weird the word sounded.

"Like you think of Kurt as your step-brother," Puck said, releasing an airy chuckle as he hitched his hands on his hips.

"Actually, I do," Finn told him, pointing his finger in Puck's face. "I actually do give a damn about him, and I _know _you don't."

"And how do you know that?" Puck demanded.

Finn was silent for a moment as he tried to think of how to word what he wanted to say. "Well, I know for a fact you don't care about him like he wants you to, like you're making him _believe _you do," Finn told him, and Puck seriously wanted to punch him. "You like girls. What is this really about?"

This conversation was becoming too much like the one he had with Kurt at Breadstix. Puck sighed, knowing he'd have to tell Finn the truth—the _whole _truth—he just wished he wouldn't come to regret it. "If I tell you, then you have to keep it a secret, okay? The whole thing, not just parts. You can't tell anyone,_ especially_ anyone in glee and that includes your girlfriend." He looked back towards the room where they just walked out of. "And you can't tell Kurt," Puck added.

Finn's brows arched up in confusion. "Okay, I won't," he promised.

Puck scratched the back of his head and inhaled a deep breath. "A little over a week ago, Schuester asked me to do something," he admitted in a soft voice. "He knows that our chance of winning Regionals is pretty slim without Kurt, we all do. So, he asked me to try and get him to come back." Puck looked at Finn with questioning eyes, and when Finn did not seem to follow along, he sighed and continued, "We decided that the only way I was going to get Kurt to come back was if we started dating, so Schuester told me to try, and I agreed to it."

His friend appeared as if he were trying to solve a complicated algebra equation in his head without a piece of scratch paper or a calculator until color rose up in his face, his expression was one of disbelief and anger. "So, you're _pretending _to like Kurt to get him to come back to glee club? And once he's back, you'll just ditch him? Do you know how fragile Kurt is? That'll destroy him."

"No, it's not like _that_," Puck said quickly before Finn decided to give him another black eye. "It's not like that at all." Finn was going to have to know the whole story, and now was as good of time as ever. "I like Kurt. Not just like a friend, but _like _him. You follow me?"

"No," Finn admitted, sounding completely bemused.

Puck hit his forehead with his palm. "I have feelings for Kurt. I did before Mr. Schuester even asked me to try and get Kurt back. That was why I was down with doing it in the first place." He looked down at his feet, stuffed his hands in his pockets. "This might sound stupid, but the mission that Schuester gave me sort of made me feel like it was okay to like Kurt, and that I didn't have to try and ignore how I felt anymore."

Finn's face was still blank. "But you're a total chick magnet."

"Yeah, and I still am," Puck said, laughing. "I'm still straight, I just happen to like a dude."

"I think that means you're gay," Finn said, "Or bisexual at least."

Puck rolled his eyes. "Whatever, labels aren't my thing." He leaned in closer to Finn, his face set. "But seriously, you can't tell anyone _any _of this. Not your mom, not Burt, not Rachel, _not_ Mercedes, and definitely not Kurt."

"Then when are you going to tell him?" Finn asked.

"I dunno," Puck admitted. "I guess whenever the time is right." If that time would ever actually come.

Finn looked toward the house and could see Kurt's face in the window, looking out at them. "If he ever comes back, you gotta tell him then if you haven't already."

Puck nodded. "Yeah, I know, dude."

"Well, if that's everything, can we go back inside now? It's like…two degrees out here," Finn said, pulling his robe tightly around his body.

The two of them walked back toward the house, joking around and awkwardly running into each other as they normally did. Once Finn was back inside the basement, he nodded to Kurt and smiled before he disappeared behind his side of the curtain. Puck and Kurt both heard when Finn flopped back down in bed, followed by a, "Keep it down a couple octaves, I'm trying to sleep here!" and then a muffled fit of laughter.

"How did it go?" Kurt asked once he heard Finn's gentle snoring again only about a minute later. "What did you guys talk about?"

"Well," Puck started, pulling out his pajama pants from his duffle bag. "I told him the truth. You know, that we've been spending a lot of time together lately and that…I like you." He made sure to look directly into Kurt's eyes when he said that last bit so that Kurt would really believe Puck's feelings, and that he wasn't just playing games with his heart.

Kurt folded his arms over his chest. "How'd he take that?"

Puck shrugged. "Alright, I guess. I mean, he was a little confused, but he's always confused."

"You think he's going to tell everyone about us?" Kurt asked in a soft voice.

If Finn went back on his word, then Puck was going to have to kick his ass. He pulled his shirt over his head and stuffed it into his bag. "He won't," Puck reassured, unbuckling his jeans. "Unless he wants to lose his best friend, that is. It's our business to tell, not his."

Kurt nodded and turned around to give Puck some privacy while he was changing. He doubted that Puck minded—the boy really had no shame—but if Kurt watched him undress, then he was sure that his face would turn five shades of red.

"Remember these?" Puck asked, holding his hands out and thrusting his hips forward.

Turning around, Kurt had to clamp his hand over his mouth to keep from laughing out loud. "Are those?"

"Your pajama bottoms?" Puck asked, waggling his brows and puckering his lips. "Yeah, they totally are. They still look good, don't they?"

Kurt giggled stalked over to his suitcase to withdrawal a pair of pajamas, keeping his face down to hide how flushed it was. That was not a good enough answer for Puck. It wasn't even an answer at all. He stood directly behind Kurt, brushing the length of his body against Kurt's back and his hands curled around to touch Kurt's chest, his lips less than an inch away from Kurt's ear as he whispered, "Don't they?"

"Uh." It was all Kurt could manage as his breath hitched in the back of his throat. The warm feeling of Puck's body pressed up right against his was overwhelming, and Kurt's mind was spinning from the sensation of it all. "They do," Kurt murmured at last, his head resting against Puck's bare shoulder.

Puck turned Kurt around and took a step back. "Let's see you in yours." To be honest, he wanted to undress Kurt himself, but it'd probably be a little too forward of him to ask.

Kurt gripped his pajamas so tightly that his knuckles were turning white. "Look away," he instructed, ignoring how much Puck whined. There was no way he was going to get down in nothing but his underwear after they had only been seeing each other for a short time.

Once Puck's back was turned, Kurt quickly pulled off his clothes, folded them up and placed them in his hamper, and then yanked on his pajamas equally fast. He pulled the drawstring tightly around his slender hips and made sure to do up most of the buttons of his shirt.

When Puck faced Kurt again, he did a double take. People still wore pajamas like that nowadays? "Uh…" he said, looking confused. "You look like one of the kids from _The Sound of Music_. Are you going to sing 'So Long, Farewell' to me?"

"What? No," Kurt said, nudging Puck in his side playfully before he pulled the blankets on his bed back.

"Darn," Puck sighed before he climbed into Kurt's bed after him. "I was hoping you would. I've always liked that song."

* * *

Since I have the next chapter mostly written, it should be up relatively soon! I just wanted to part on one quick word about how I wrote the Dalton students, and how I'll probably continue to write them: I know that the school as a zero-tolerance policy on bullying, but I do not buy that that means that people don't talk about each other behind their backs, or that students still don't get made fun of. There might not be a Karofsky fiasco, but they're still high school students.

Next chapter will be when all the drama goes down between the Warblers and New Directions which might ultimately lead to the decision that Kurt's going to eventually have to make: should he stay at Dalton Academy or come back to McKinley?

I'll get chapter seven up soon! Thank you all for your love and support!


	7. Sing Off

**Notes: **The last time I played laser tag was well over a decade ago, so if I got it wrong, I am sorry. I kind of just went off what I knew about the object of the game, and separated New Directions into two teams. If that's not right, my bad! I probably should have picked something I knew, but laser tag kind of sounded like a whole lot of fun.

I am super thrilled that you all are enjoying my story, and I hope you continue to! I love hearing from you guys and thank you all so much for all of your kind words!

I made Rachel and Kurt friends in this. Technically that whole, "how come you were never this nice to me?" thing never happened in this, but I love their friendship so…yeah, they're friends.

Enjoy!

* * *

_**Chapter Seven—**_**Sing-Off**

**

* * *

**

Kurt's head was rested on Puck's chest and their legs were twisted together when he woke up. He could hear Puck's heartbeat pounding away softly and slowly. He felt Puck's breathing more than he heard it; every time Puck exhaled, it blew his bangs off his forehead for a second. And Puck was smiling, albeit barely in his sleep, and Kurt wondered what he was dreaming about and if it somehow included him.

Tentatively, he brought his hand up to Puck's chest and placed it over his heart. Puck's skin was smooth and warm to the touch. He slid his hand over Puck's gentle muscles until his fingers brushed what felt like metal and he stilled, lifted up the blanket a little bit, and saw a ring pierced through Puck's left nipple that he hadn't noticed before. Kurt thought about what it might be like if he pulled on the little ring lightly with his teeth as he swirled his tongue around the sensitive skin till it hardened, and whether or not Puck would like that.

But then Kurt flushed when he felt heat start to rise in his body and quickly pushed that thought out of his head. Untangling himself from Puck's body, he rolled over and grabbed his iPhone to check the time, and almost had a heart attack when he saw that it was almost ten in the morning.

His hand found Puck's chest again and he frantically shook him. "Puck! Puck, wake up. You have to _wake up_," he hissed, not even caring at this point if he also woke up Finn.

Puck stirred in his sleep and cracked open one eye. "Where's the fire?" he asked, his voice thick and hoarse.

"What?" Kurt asked, grabbing Puck's arm as he tried to pull him up. "There's no fire! You have to go! My dad's probably already awake and if he somehow finds your car and comes down here, he will probably _kill you_ and make it look like an accident." He hadn't gotten around to telling his dad anything about Puck yet, and he didn't plan on doing it for a while. It wasn't that he didn't think he could talk to his dad about Puck—he totally could—it was just that his dad was really protective about his baby boy and he knew that Puck was notorious for sleeping around.

"Really? He'd do that?" Puck asked, finally opening both of his eyes as he sat up and bed and took his shirt from Kurt. "That's kinda harsh, dude."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Just get up and get dressed."

Puck did as he was told, albeit a little slower than Kurt would have liked; he couldn't be blamed for it, though. His brain didn't work right in the morning. "When do you want me to pick you up tonight?"

"Around eight-thirty is fine," Kurt said as he practically dragged Puck to the back door.

Kurt was fine with just exchanging quick goodbyes, but Puck wasn't. He placed his hands on Kurt's hips, pulling him close as he softly brushed his lips against Kurt's. The seconds the kiss lasted were the only ones that Kurt was actually relaxed during since he woke Puck up, and when Puck pulled away, Kurt's eyes were still closed and his cheeks rosy. "I miss you already," he admitted in a tiny voice before he closed the door.

Once Kurt turned back to his empty bed, he stomach growled, and he figured that he should probably eat breakfast while he's still got the chance. He climbed up the stairs, stalked into the kitchen, and stopped in his tracks when he saw his father standing over the stove, making pancakes and scrambled eggs.

"Hungry?" Burt asked, flipping over a pancake before it got a little too golden brown on one side.

Kurt nodded slowly and tried to act normal. "Yeah, I am," he said a little breathlessly as he walked toward the refrigerator and pulled out the orange juice, pouring them both a glass.

"So, what do you wanna do today, kiddo?" Burt questioned, bringing the pancakes and eggs that he was already finished with to the table. The amount of food that he made was almost comical and would have lasted them a couple of days if it were still just the two of them, but their family was two members larger, and Finn ate like there was going to be a famine any day now.

"Well," Kurt started, scooping out some scrambled eggs onto his plate and two pancakes. "I kind of have plans with my friends tonight, if that's okay."

"That's fine. You should see your friends," Burt told him as he joined his son at the table. "You're away from them, too, not just me…er, well, _us_ now."

Kurt smiled and placed his hand on his father's shoulder. He really missed his dad, missed this house and his room. He enjoyed being back more than he thought he would, and it wasn't just because he got to spend more time with Puck. "Thanks for understanding, dad."

"How about let's do something this afternoon? Just the two of us," Burt suggested as he covered his pancakes with sugar free syrup as per Kurt's request.

"Okay, what did you have in mind?" He was excited; he enjoyed spending time with his dad, and it would get him to stop thinking about how much he missed Puck.

Burt stabbed his mound of scrambled eggs with his fork and shoveled some into his mouth. "How about let's go to the mall? We can get you a brand new outfit to wear tonight when you go out with your friends."

"Really?" Kurt asked, his forkful of pancake halfway into his mouth. "But you just paid for my tuition. Can we even afford it?"

Burt shrugged and gave his son a soft smile. "We'll have to be on a budget for sure, but I will be able to get you something nice."

Kurt shot up from the table and flung his arms around his father, pulling him into a tight hug. "You're the best, dad!"

He laughed and patted his son on top of his head.

##

"I thought you were going to talk to him about _not _wearing making," David spat at Wes in the back of the fifteen-passenger van, nodding towards Marcus.

"He's not wearing much," Wes explained, shrugging his shoulders.

"He is wearing _fake eyelashes with rhinestones on them_," David said under his breath, making sure that Marcus was still well out of hearing range.

"At least he left his hot pink lipstick back at school?" Wes offered, but David did not look impressed.

"I think I'd rather he have on that than those things. How can he even see?"

The Warbler named Anthony turned around, tossing his arm over the back of his seat casually. "So, what's the plan?" He had dark hair and eyes, sharp features, but an extremely kind smile when he decided to actually show it off.

"David told me that the new kid went back to his stomping grounds," Daniel interjected, sounding proud of himself, like he was the only one with the treasured information. Well, besides David himself. "You know, that one that can sing really high."

"Oh, he's pretty good," Anthony said thoughtfully.

"You really think so?" Daniel asked, sounding more than a little surprised. "If I am to be frank, I don't think he's anything to write home about. I mean, _I _can sing just as good as he can—"

Anthony rolled his eyes and spoke over Daniel, "Why'd he leave?"

But before Wes or David could answer his question, Daniel was already in mid-explanation, "_I _heard that he is homesick, and that Blaine is worried he's not coming back. Not that we need him, anyways, but Blaine thinks we do for whatever reason…"

"But if he's homesick and he misses wherever he's from, then how are we going to get him to come back?" Anthony asked, knocking Daniel's sheet music out of his hand so he could do something other than annoy him for a good thirty or so seconds.

"Through song," Wes said excitedly, nodding.

"And we're going to crash the little get-together that Kurt's friends are throwing for him," David added, smiling devilishly before he high-fived Wes and Anthony.

A Warbler nearby with yellow hair almost as bright as the sun asked, "But isn't that kind of mean?"

"Nick," Anthony started, smirking. "Don't let us regret finally _allowing _you to become a Warbler."

"Is there already a song picked out?" the second-year senior named Trevor asked, who had remained silent for the whole conversation up until now. "Maybe we should rehearse on our way there?"

David shrugged. "I am not sure if Blaine's decided on one yet, but right before we left, he said he wanted to do a Kesha song…"

"What?"

"_Kesha_?"

"The crackhead _Kesha_?"

"I did _not_ sign up for this! Katy Perry is one thing, but Kesha…"

"Guys, guys!" Wes said, holding up his hands to silence them, causing some other Warblers who were not in on the conversation to turn around. "It's not like we're singing it at Regionals, okay? We're not even going to have much of an audience, except for those New Directions kids. It's mostly just to psyche them out."

"And if we can show them that we can make an awful song that is literally a sin against everything good and holy actually sound _good_, then they'll be pretty shaken up," David added.

The silence was finally broken when Daniel finally said, "Alright, fine, but just this once."

##

He had already tried on about six outfits that already had earned a no, and just as Kurt did up the buttons of a particularly chic collared shirt, his dad asked, "How are things at Dalton?"

They went over this last night when they all went out to dinner as a family, but Kurt supposed that his father didn't think that his one-word answer of "fine" was sufficient enough. "So far so good," Kurt called back nonchalantly as he looked at himself in the mirror, turning from one side to the other so he could really appreciate the outfit from multiple angles. "The classes are harder, and I have a lot more homework, but I like being challenged."

"You making any friends?" his dad inquired, and Kurt heard the hesitancy in his voice.

That wasn't exactly the easiest question to answer, and no matter what, Kurt always felt a little awkward when he talked to his dad about his friends. There was always drama, always fall-outs, and trying to keep his dad on track with all of it was exhausting to say the least. "Uh, I've made a couple of friends. People are nice at Dalton." He walked out of the dressing room, held his arms out, and did a little twirl.

"Eh, the shirt kind of looks like something you already own," Burt pointed out.

Kurt looked down at it and frowned. "Yeah, it sort of does," he said before he disappeared back into the dressing room and discarded the clothes into the growing no pile. He saved the best outfit to try on last; impossibly tight charcoal colored skinny jeans, a fitted black designer shirt that hugged him in all the right places, and a jewel-toned aquamarine velvet jacket that played off the color of his eyes. Paired with the right accessories and shoes, he'd totally stop Puck in his tracks. But before he could daydream about Puck for too long, his father asked him a question that immediately brought him back down to earth.

"So, do you have a boyfriend yet?"

"Wh-What?" Kurt stuttered, his hand sweaty when he turned the knob of the dressing room door. He cleared his throat and shook his head. "No, I don't."

"Anyone you're interested in?" he asked, pushing the conversation further.

Kurt wasn't too thrilled to be talking about this; not now, in some clothing store. But if he tried to avoid answering, or if he flat out lied, his father would catch him in his act and call him out on it. Kurt decided that it was probably just best to get this out of the way, and try and play it cool. "Uh, there is…one guy who I like, but he…he doesn't go to Dalton with me."

"He goes to McKinley?"

His lips tightened as he nodded. "Yes."

Burt folded his arms over his chest. "It's not Finn still, is it?" he asked tentatively.

Oh God, Kurt wanted to just _die_. "No, dad, it's not Finn!" he said, sounding a little hysterical. Finn was now his step-brother, and while he hadn't been for too long, it pretty much killed every crush-like feeling he had for him. Finn not lifting a finger when he was harassed by Karofsky didn't help matters much, either. "You don't have to worry about that. I am _so _over Finn. It's someone else from glee."

Burt wanted to continue asking questions about this mysterious guy that Kurt liked, but he decided that Kurt would tell him when he was ready. Besides, it wasn't like there were a million guys in New Directions. If Burt wanted to, he was sure he could figure out which guy it was on his own.

"That looks really good," Burt said, nodding at what Kurt was wearing. "Do you like it?"

Kurt swallowed down the knot that had developed in the back of his throat, thankful that his father changed the subject. "Yeah, I love it," he told him.

"Good, then let's get it," his dad said, smiling.

##

Puck had already called a few of the members from glee to confirm that they were going tonight. Mercedes agreed without him really needing to ask, Sam said he'd go as long as Quinn went and she said yes, and Brittany, Artie, Tina, and Mike all said they were going. Lauren couldn't since she had a wrestling meet, and Finn was already in, so the only two he still had to ask were Rachel and Santana.

Even though Rachel was more of a fan of Kurt than Santana was, he decided to call Santana first. He knew Rachel and Finn were no longer an item and thought it'd take a bit more effort to talk Rachel into going, whereas Santana was always pretty straightforward.

"Hello?" she answered.

"Hey, it's me," Puck said, hoping this would be a quick conversation.

"Is this a booty call?"

Dammit. This was why Puck put off calling Santana for so long. He almost considered getting Brittany to do it, but he didn't trust her enough to actually pass on the message. Puck hadn't had sex in a really long time, and he suspected that Kurt wasn't going to be giving it up any time soon. Sex was his weakness; the offer of sex from a hot girl was about a million times worse, and Santana was hot, _really _hot, and he knew how good in bed she was.

"No," Puck said finally with much effort.

"Do you want it to be?" Santana asked seductively.

His whole body was screaming at him to say yes, but then he remembered Kurt, their plans, and how good things have been going between the two of them. If he said yes, then he'd mess up everything, and that was the last thing he wanted to do. "No, look, a couple of us are getting together since Kurt's in town and I was wondering if you wanted to come along," Puck said in one breath just so he was sure he wouldn't change his mind mid-sentence.

"_Kurt_?" Santana asked incredulously. "Please tell me you haven't decided to become gay."

He wondered how one actually went about _deciding_ a thing like that. It wasn't like one day he woke up and thought it'd be a good idea to think that Kurt was attractive, he just _did_. "I just thought we could all hang out, you know? He's been gone a while and we all miss him."

Santana didn't say anything for a minute or two, and he figured that she was deciding whether or not she wanted to be seen in public outside of a school function with everyone from New Directions. "Who's going?"

"Everyone is going so far, well, except for Lauren, and I don't know if Rachel is because I haven't asked her yet."

"_Don't_ invite her."

Puck sighed into the phone. "Why not?"

"Because _no one_ likes her. I mean, Finn doesn't even like her anymore."

He knew that was a lie. Finn might have broken up with her, but he still liked her—loved her, maybe…probably. Puck saw it on Finn's face whenever he looked at her during rehearsals, heard it in his voice when he talked about her. "We all like her, Santana; you're the one who doesn't," Puck said, kind of feeling good about standing up to Santana and actually being honest instead of kissing her ass so he could get down her pants, which used to be the way he did things.

There was silence on the other end again, and he wondered if he struck a nerve with her.

"You know what? I'll pass," Santana said causally, and Puck could picture her looking at her nails or fluffing up her hair. "I have a date tonight, unless, of course, you've changed your mind?"

Puck's jaw tightened as he chanted the word _no _in his head about fifty times over.

"I haven't."

"Fine," Santana huffed into the phone. "I hope you have fun _not_ getting laid tonight." And then she hung up on him.

"Bitch," Puck said to himself before he found Rachel's number in his phone. He didn't feel like going through a whole long-winded conversation, so he just asked her over text. And, like Santana, Rachel wanted to know who was going.

_Yeah, I mean, he's Kurt's step-brother and all. –P_

_I don't know if I should go… –R _

Puck was so over this. Why couldn't girls make up their minds without asking twenty questions and second-guessing everything?

_You should go. We're all going to be there, and it's for Kurt. Who knows when he'll be back next? And you don't have to talk to Finn. You don't even have to be around him. He's pretty easy to avoid since he's so tall, you know? –P_

It took her a few minutes to finally text him back after that message.

_You said Santana wasn't going? –R_

_Right, she's got a date or something. –P_

_Well, I guess I should come to terms with me and Finn being broken up, and there's really no better way than to just face it head-on…so alright, I'll go. –R_

He didn't even bother asking Rachel why she told him all of that when he really didn't need to know, Puck's just glad that she's going since he's got a feeling that Kurt will be happy to see her.

_Great, we're meeting there at nine. –P_

_Nine? Don't you think that's a little late? –R_

Really? Nine o'clock was late? Maybe if it was nine in the morning and you were up all night into the early morning partying…

_No, it's a Saturday. See you then. –P_

He turned his phone on silent before Rachel could argue back.

##

It was the first time Puck was in Kurt's house with Burt's permission, and he was nervous as hell. He had only met Burt once—at his wedding—so he's glad that he got to avoid the awkward _Hi, my name is Puck_ conversation, but sitting with him in the living room while Finn taps away on his knees to break the uncomfortable silence wasn't much better.

"What are your plans for tonight?" Burt asked, eyeing Puck, wondering if he was the guy that Kurt was interested in or not. He was on the football team, so maybe, but he also had a mohawk and he was certain that his son wasn't into the whole bad boy appeal.

Finn exchanged glances with Puck before he turned his head towards the window and focused all of his attention on something outside that he probably couldn't even see since it was nighttime. "Uh, it's kind of a surprise. Kurt doesn't know yet."

From Finn's reaction, he realized that that answer was probably not the right one.

Burt narrowed his eyes at Puck and leaned forward in his seat. Puck wanted to touch his own face to check that it was still there and hadn't melted off from the look Burt was giving him, but didn't want to come across as daft. "Kurt's not here. Where are you guys going?"

Puck stared at Finn again who, just like before, provided no help, and Puck promised to himself that him and Finn would be on opposite teams tonight just so that he can laser the hell out of his ass. "We're all going to the laser tag arena."

"Who's we?" Burt asked.

While Burt was looking at the basement door, Puck swiftly kicked Finn in the shins and gave him an expectant look, nodding towards his step-father. "Just people from glee, well, except for two girls who had other plans," Finn muttered as he rubbed his leg.

Puck thought it was total bullshit that Finn answered, but Burt was still glaring at him. Couldn't he look somewhere else?

Burt tilted his head, his mouth a thin line. "So, are you the kid my boy likes?"

"Uh," Puck started, his mouth open and his expression blank before he shrugged. He was not sure if this was a safe conversation to have. "I don't know."

The way Burt was looking at him made Puck think that he knew he was lying through his teeth.

"You don't know?" Burt repeated, his eyes narrowing even further. "Do you spend time with my son? Have you visited him at Dalton?"

Dammit. Why was he getting interrogated? Did he really _deserve_ it? Probably. Puck looked at Finn for some kind of support, but Finn just shrugged lamely and gave his usual crooked, awkward smile. "Yeah, I have," Puck finally admitted.

"How often?"

Puck sighed and rubbed his forehead nervously. "Uh, pretty often, I guess? Like almost every day."

Burt's whole face tightened. "Really? And what have you two been doing up there?"

Oh God, Puck hoped that Burt didn't think they were having sex or anything. Sure, that was what Puck wanted, but he was still suffering from blue balls. And if he was going to get in trouble with Burt, then it damn well better be for something that he actually did. "We just hang out," Puck shrugged, trying to play it cool.

"Just hang out? Is that it?" Burt asked.

He heard the sound of the basement door opening, and Puck almost worshipped the ground that Kurt walked on for saving his ass. "Dad, stop. You're scaring my friend."

Burt gave Puck one last look before he turned to his son, his expression softening immediately. "Have fun with your friends, Kurt." His eyes drifted momentarily over to Puck. "Don't be out too late."

Kurt nodded and gave his dad a quick hug before he grabbed both Puck and Finn and dragged them out of the house. "What's with your dad?" Puck whispered low enough so that only Kurt would be able to hear him.

"I told him there's someone I like from glee," Kurt admitted, his cheeks turning a little rosy. "I guess he thinks it might be you."

"Well, it is me," Puck told him cockily, waggling his eyebrows. His gaze drifted up and down Kurt's body and he smiled seductively. "Also, you look _real good _tonight."

"Will you two get in? If we do not get going then we're going to be late," Finn yelled from inside his car.

"Keep your pants on," Puck snapped back before he opened the back door of Finn's car for Kurt and held it open for him. When Kurt climbed in, he took the opportunity to check out Kurt's ass to see just how tight those jeans really were and how well they fit him. After getting an eyeful, Puck was a huge fan.

"You're not getting in the front with me?" Finn asked when Puck slid in the back seat after Kurt.

"Hell no, I am sitting back here with Kurt."

"Okay…" Finn said, starting up his car as he adjusted his rearview mirror.

Puck scooted in close to Kurt and took his hand, rubbing the pad of his thumb across Kurt's soft skin. He tried not to focus too hard on how tight Kurt's pants hugged his thighs—they almost looked painted on. Kurt also smelled _really _good, and he noticed that the scent was coming from the curve of his neck. He brought his head close to Kurt, his nose bumping up against the skin behind Kurt's ear as his lips brushed against his long neck.

Heat rose in Kurt's cheeks as he tilted his head back to expose more of his neck, a tiny whimper escaped his parted lips.

"What are you guys doing?" Finn asked, sounding a little frantic and uncomfortable.

"Dude, shouldn't you be keeping your eyes on the road?" Puck huffed in between small kisses that he placed along Kurt's collarbone. But Kurt's hand on Puck's chest was pushing him away, his eyes sad as he shook his head. "What's wrong?"

"Not now," Kurt said, lacing his fingers with Puck's again.

"He's kissed Rachel in front of you before," Puck whined. He was really going to have to get Finn back now that he was preventing him from making out with Kurt. "Fine, but you better make it up to me later."

Kurt nudged him in the side playfully. "I will," he promised.

##

It was so great to be back with his friends from glee; Kurt didn't realize just how much he missed them until he saw them again after being apart for what felt like ages. He was even excited to see Mike and they never really talked much or hung out. But being at a laser tag arena made him a little wary; he had never been before and just looking at the equipment that he had to put on over his new clothes almost made him have a bitch fit.

"They're clean, right?" Rachel asked, literally taking the words right out of his mouth, her nose scrunched up as she looked at them from behind the desk. "I won't get sick?"

"_What_?" Mercedes asked, her brows furrowing. "How would you get sick from wearing a plastic vest with lights built into it?"

"Well, if it's got diseases…" Rachel said, frowning.

Mercedes rolled her eyes. "They look perfectly clean, Rachel."

Kurt and Puck held up the rear of the line waiting to get their equipment when Puck took Kurt's hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze, not even caring if one of their friends turned around and saw that he was holding Kurt's hand. "Is this okay?"

Laser tag certainly wasn't Kurt's first choice, but Puck put this all together for him, invited everyone from glee just so he could see them all and have fun with his friends, and Kurt slowly started to look on the bright side of things. The equipment _did_ look fine from where he was, and besides, he could always take off his jacket just to make sure it didn't get dirty. "Yeah, I've never played laser tag before."

"I'll teach you how," Puck told him, nodding. "We can be on the same team."

Once they all had their vests and laser guns, Puck ushered everyone over to the lobby area. He already worked out that Kurt and Finn would be the captains and pick their own teams, just like you did in elementary school before playing kickball. And Kurt won the coin toss, so he got to pick first.

"Puck," Kurt said immediately, without even having to think about it. And Puck didn't even care that a couple of the glee kids were whispering to each other, wondering what was going on between them.

He figured that the rest of Kurt's choices would be the girls, and he ended up being totally right; Mercedes, Rachel, Quinn, and Tina all joined Kurt's team while Sam, Artie, Mike, and Brittany (who Kurt really campaigned for to have on his team as well, but didn't get since the numbers would be uneven) made up Finn's.

"You all are going down," Mercedes announced as she clinked her gun with Quinn's.

The group of eleven made their way into the maze at the same time, each going in opposite directions except for Puck and Kurt who walked off together. Puck made the arrangement that he'd send everyone a group text once they were starting because he didn't think the workers would appreciate him yelling "GO!" at the top of his lungs. As he led Kurt to a good hiding spot, he quickly explained the object of the game: try not to get hit by someone's laser on the other team, don't run around too much, try and stay hidden, but _do _aim to shoot everyone on Finn's team, especially Finn himself.

"Pretty simple, right?" Puck asked.

Kurt nodded. "Yeah, but I think I'm going to need a good luck kiss," he said, smirking slyly.

"I can hook you up with one of those," Puck told him before he leaned in, wrapped his hand around the back of Kurt's neck, pulled him close and kissed him. His other hand tugged at a belt loop on Kurt's pants as he rocked his hips forward, causing Kurt to make a startled little noise against his lips. Pressed up against a dark wall with neon lights decorating it, his hands all over Kurt's body, his tongue in Kurt's warm mouth, and his leg trapped in between Kurt's thighs—Puck was pretty sure this was the most erotic thing he'd ever done.

Reluctantly, Puck broke the kiss and whispered, "Good luck," against Kurt's soft cheek. He sent a quick text message to the group, and within a second or two, he heard what sounded like a battle cry and it was on.

He stayed close to Kurt at the beginning, but quickly they lost each other as flashes of people ran past him. Puck saw Mercedes first and almost shot her, but pulled back before he did and went after Mike when he saw him out of the corner of his eye, shooting his back a couple of times with his laser gun before he hid behind the closest wall and then took off, looking for Finn.

While he was on his mission, he managed to shoot both Artie and Brittany, but got shot by Sam at least five times since the dude was practically a laser tag ninja on steroids. Finally, he found Finn kneeling down, creeping around a corner to attack Kurt from behind and Puck leapt out from behind the wall that concealed him, shooting his laser gun at Finn so many times that the lights on Finn's vest turned off, eliminating him from the game.

It was not long until only he and Kurt were still in the game against Sam, and instead of staying together to ambush Sam, Kurt thought it was a better idea to split up to confuse him and _then _ambush him. Puck went to attack Sam from the front, Kurt from behind. Unfortunately, the plan wasn't completely successful because Sam managed to "kill" Puck before he could, but Kurt was firing away at Sam's back and the lights on Sam's vest turn off only a moment after Puck's.

"We won?" Kurt asked incredulously, surprised that he was the last man standing.

"WE WON!" Puck nearly yelled before Mercedes, Rachel, Quinn, and Tina ran towards the pair of them, pulling them into a group hug as the boys and Brittany stood idly, all looking a little disappointed, especially Finn and Sam who really thought they had it in the bag.

"Enjoy it while you can since you won't be winning Regionals," a loud voice called from behind them.

"Because we will be taking that title," another said.

All eleven of them turned around immediately, Kurt the fastest. His wide eyes fell upon his fellow Warblers, and then finally on Blaine when he emerged from behind the group. "_Blaine_?" he asked as if he didn't believe his eyes. "What's going on?"

Blaine didn't answer Kurt; he just smiled widely and got into his usual _I'm-about-to-perform-so-I-better-look-good_ stance, along with the rest of the Warblers. And just when Puck was about to stomp his way over to the kid who was trying a little too hard to conceal his curls, they broke into song:

_Maybe I need some rehab, or maybe I just need some sleep. I've got a sick obsession, I'm seeing it in my dreams. I'm looking down every alley, I'm making those desperate calls. I'm staying up all night hoping, hitting my head against the wall. _

That Blaine kid was looking directly at Kurt, _singing _to him as he grinned easily and swayed his hips. Puck glanced over to Kurt just to see what his reaction was, and Kurt's expression was completely blank, his brows furrowed and his eyes narrow.

_What you've got, boy, is hard to find. I think about it all the time. I'm all strung out my heart is fried. I just can't get you off my mind._

A mean, overwhelming jealousy rose up in Puck's body before he could stop it. It was like Blaine felt everything he was singing to Kurt, and while they were not official yet, Puck certainly did _not_ want Blaine thinking about Kurt all the time. He didn't want Blaine thinking about Kurt at all.

He looked around and saw that the other glee kids were staring at the Warblers, their jaws practically on the floor. They sounded _good_ despite the song being awful, and were in such harmony that it was almost sickening. Along with the jealousy, Puck felt a little uneasy. It was like Vocal Adrenaline psyching them out all over again, but a million times worse since Blaine refused to take his eyes off Kurt.

Puck wanted to punch him.

_Because your love, your love, your love is my drug, your love, your love, your love. I said your love, your love, your love is my drug, your love, your love, your love. _

Whose love? Because Puck was damn sure that Kurt didn't love Blaine.

_I don't care what people say the rush is worth the price I pay. I get so high when you're with me, but crash and crave you when you leave. Hey, so I gotta a question. Do you wanna have a slumber party in my basement? Do I make your heart beat like an 808 drum? Is my love your drug?_

Was this guy dropped on his head when he was a kid? Did he not see that Puck was a complete and total badass? Did he _not _see Puck's guns?

_Because your love, your love, your love is my drug, your love, your love, your love. I said your love, your love, your love is my drug, your love, your love, your love. _

As soon as the Warblers sang the last note, they high-fived each other, all looking pleased with themselves, thinking that they proved something.

"Oh _hell_ no," Artie said, looking at them all with the utmost disgust. He glanced over his shoulder at his friends, "Did they _really _just sing that song?"

About half of the club looked worried, the other half amused from what Artie said about the ridiculous performance. Kurt was still in shock, still trying to process what was going on, still trying to _understand_ why the Warblers who were supposed to be his new teammates decided to do this to him and his friends.

"Guys, I think we need to give them a taste of their own medicine," Puck said, huddling up with the boys to agree on a song as the girls circled Kurt.

Puck made sure that from where the guys were standing they'd be able to scowl at the Warblers while he was still able to look at Kurt.

_You know I never, I never seen you look so good. You never act the way you should, but I like it. And I know you like it, too, the way that I want you. I gotta have you, oh yes I do._

He knew for a fact that Kurt was into him. He was also pretty sure that if Kurt ever had feelings for Blaine that he didn't have them anymore, especially after the stunt he pulled tonight. And now that Blaine was no longer in the way, hindering them from potentially getting together, Puck really wanted to make things official.

_You know I never, I never ever stay out late. You know that I can hardly wait, just to see you. And I know you cannot wait, wait to see me, too. I gotta touch you, 'cause baby we'll be…_

If Puck had his way, he'd see Kurt every damn day regardless of how much the gas cost him. He knew that Kurt felt the same; he could see it on Kurt's face every time they saw each other.

_At the drive-in, in the old man's Ford, behind the bushes until I'm screaming for more. Down the basement, lock the cellar door, and baby, talk dirty to me._

Puck wondered if there was a drive-in in Lima or if Kurt's dad drove a Ford.

_You know I call you, I call you on the telephone. I'm only hoping that you're home, so I can hear you when you say those words to me and whisper so softly. I gotta hear you, 'cause baby we'll be…_

He also wondered if Kurt would be opposed to phone sex.

_At the drive-in, in the old man's Ford, behind the bushes until I'm screaming for more. Down the basement, lock the cellar door, and baby, talk dirty to me._

When they finished, he realized just how wide Kurt's eyes were, and he really wasn't sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing. However, judging by Kurt's rosy cheeks, the way he licked his dry lips, and how his pants seemed even tighter than before, Puck was willing to bet that it was a _damn_ good thing.

"Are you still confident about winning Regionals?" Sam asked sarcastically, grinning widely.

"Yeah, I am," Blaine said, returning his smirk before his eyes fell on Kurt. "Because we have what you need—your ex-member."

A fierce red rose in Kurt's face from that comment and he stomped over to Blaine. "Blaine, this is crazy. What is this about?" He had no idea how Blaine—who was his _friend _and used to be his crush—could have done this to him. Blaine knew how much he cared about everyone from New Directions.

"You're too good for them," Blaine whispered. "We don't want you to leave."

"Too good for them?" Kurt repeated, sounding furious. "They are my _friends_, and when did I say I was leaving Dalton?" None of this made sense to Kurt.

Blaine looked just beyond Kurt and stared into the faces of Kurt's friends. "I thought—you came back just to visit?"

"_Yes_! And I plan on doing it more in the future, but that doesn't mean I'm leaving," Kurt told him.

Puck walked toward them, taking a step in front of Kurt as he got in Blaine's face, glaring at him. "I think you and your little backup singers ought to leave."

"I am much more than merely a backup singer," Daniel muttered, but everyone ignored him.

Blaine took one step closer to Puck, his face set, and he was smiling wider than ever before. "You know what?" he asked, almost laughing. "I bet he hasn't told you half of the things he's told me. Things he had to deal with at McKinley while you weren't there for him like I would have been if I had the chance. I bet you don't know what happened to him, because if you did, then you'd stop trying to take advantage of him."

Kurt's mouth flew open, but no sound came out. And Puck was furious for several reasons: one, this bastard thought he knew everything; two, he _never _took advantage of Kurt; and three, Blaine was right—whatever he was talking about that happened at McKinley, Kurt never told him of. "Yeah, well, too bad I'm the one he's kissing. Too bad _I'm_ the one he's up thinking about at night, and not you," Puck whispered back so that only Blaine and Kurt could hear.

And with that, Kurt finally seemed to remember how to form coherent words. "Blaine, you need to go. You all need to go. I'll be back at Dalton Sunday night."

Blaine continued to glare at Puck for one more minute before he finally backed away, turned around, and headed towards the door. The rest of the Warblers idly hung around, wondering what the hell just went down before they followed their leader out of the arena.

"What the hell was that about?" Finn asked stupidly, still staring at where the Warblers were just standing.

Puck turned to look at Kurt, "We need to talk."


	8. Down Boy

**Notes: **Hi everyone! =) I am really glad that everyone seemed to enjoy the last chapter! It made me happy! Sorry to end it there, but hopefully you guys forgive me! Anyway, there's some fluff in this chapter unfortunately, and I just felt really disgusted with myself for writing it, 'cause fluff usually isn't my thing. I wanted this to be really angsty, and it totally went the other way what the heck? Oh well. It shouldn't be too bad!

Anyway, I totally have the whole next chapter planned out and halfway written, so hopefully I can get chapter nine out soon! I cannot believe we're already up to nine!

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_**Chapter Eight—**_**Down Boy**

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He wasn't sure if there was a word that truly described what he was feeling. He was so confused; he didn't understand. Puck probably had no right to be upset about Kurt keeping something from him, and if Puck thought that Kurt was wrong for doing it, then it was like the pot calling the kettle black. Before, he just thought that maybe Kurt wasn't ready to tell him all of his secrets, that maybe he needed more time to warm up to him, get to know him, and he was okay with thinking that. But now he _knew_ that Kurt didn't trust him—and worse—that Kurt trusted and confided in Blaine over him. That hurt the most. He could handle white lies, but not this—_this_ that made him feel like he was unworthy of truly knowing Kurt.

And it was about McKinley, which was just the icing on top of the cake. Even though Blaine was queer and thought he knew everything, there was no way he could fully appreciate what Kurt dealt with at school. It was one of those _you have to be there to know how awful it is _type of deals. And maybe Puck didn't really know, because before he had always turned a blind eye or avoided the situation altogether, but _now_? He took a punch for Kurt all because some punk thought that they were boyfriends. Puck was pretty sure he got what Kurt was going through, or at least more than Blaine did, but still, he couldn't help thinking that Kurt _chose_ Blaine over him.

That thought twisted his stomach into tight knots that gave him the sensation of being sick. He was furious and upset and angry and miserable; he never thought that one person could feel so many emotions, much less him. Maybe this was what heartbreak felt like? It kind of reminded him of the days when he saw Finn and Quinn in the hallways, Finn's hand on Quinn's pregnant belly where their little daughter was growing. He loved Quinn then, did he love Kurt now?

He was so fucking confused.

Puck got into the back of Finn's car with Kurt just like before, but this time he kept his distance because being close to him hurt way too much. He didn't reach to hold Kurt's hand, he didn't lean over to kiss him, and he tried really hard not to catch Kurt's gaze. Puck kept his eyes toward the window, staring outside without really seeing anything. He couldn't focus, but at least looking at bare trees swoosh past as Finn sped on wasn't painful.

"We're going to my place," Puck announced, his voice hoarse like he hadn't spoken in hours, and he didn't really give a damn.

"What? But Kurt and I are supposed to go back to our house," Finn argued, gripping the steering wheel with both hands, his knuckles turning white. The drive to the laser arena might have made him a little uneasy—he wasn't a huge fan of seeing his best friend try to give his step-brother a hickey—but the awkward silence that hung in the air was much worse, mainly because Finn had no idea what the hell was going on. "I don't want to get in trouble by not listening to Burt."

Puck licked his dry lips as he leaned his forehead against the cool window. "Kurt already asked if it was okay for you guys to spend the night with me," Puck explained. If he were able to have things his way, it'd just be Kurt that was spending the night with him, but there was no way that Kurt's father would have agreed to that. Whatever, as long as Finn gave them some privacy so they could talk, then he was okay.

It wasn't that he really wanted to talk, he hated confrontation and wanted to avoid it at all costs, but he wanted to make things right with Kurt, and that feeling was stronger than the one he had hoping to dodge a fight.

Finn shifted a little uncomfortably in his seat. "Is that true?" he asked, looking at Kurt from his rearview mirror.

"Yeah," Kurt said, his voice so small and sad.

Never before had he heard Kurt sound so broken, and he never wanted to again.

He felt really shitty that he was giving Kurt the cold shoulder. How he craved to just throw in the towel, kiss, and make up. But it wasn't that easy. Trying to forget about what happened didn't make it go away, didn't make things right again.

Puck needed to find a way for Kurt to trust him, but he had no idea how to do that.

The drive to Puck's house was done in complete silence save for the radio softly playing Finn's favorite classic rock station. It seemed so long, sitting there, not talking to Kurt or Finn. He thought he was probably being a little childish—okay, a _lot_ childish—but he didn't know what to say or how to say it. Every conversation possibility sounded absolutely stupid in his head, so in the end, he decided to keep them all to himself.

When Finn finally pulled into his driveway, Puck got out of the car and bolted towards his front door to unlock it. Due to the late hour, his mom and sister were already asleep, so he motioned for Finn and Kurt to keep their voices down. He didn't need to; neither of them said a thing, and the only sound they made was their quiet breathing and the soft shuffling of their feet against the floor when they made their way into his house.

Puck cleared his throat, the noise almost deafening since none of them spoke in several minutes. "Finn, uh, make yourself at home and stuff," Puck told him, stuffing his fists into his pockets. "Please don't eat all the food again or my mom will seriously kill me, and if you get tired, well, you know where I keep the air mattress."

"Where are you guys going?" Finn asked, looking from Puck to Kurt.

He chanced a glance at Kurt and saw that he was staring at his feet. Gosh, Puck felt like a jerk. Part of him really wanted to know what was going through Kurt's head, but another part of him was a little too scared to know. "We've got to talk in private."

Puck could tell that Finn wasn't too sure how to feel about the two of them needing to talk and that he wasn't invited, but he didn't ask why. His eyes fell on Kurt and he gave him a tiny, crooked smile before he teetered toward the kitchen in hopes of finding something to eat that didn't require too much skill or time.

He bit the inside of his cheek and turned to look at Kurt, immediately regretting it. Kurt looked like he was about to cry; the corners of his lips were turned down, his eyes a little unfocused and watery. Taking a step closer, he took Kurt's soft hand in his and tried to ignore the miserable, small noise that Kurt made as he led him down to the basement.

Kurt's hand didn't move in his; he didn't try and pull away, but he also didn't give it a gentle squeeze or anything romantic like that like Kurt usually did. Kurt's hand was just _there_ in his, and it felt wrong; he really missed the way Kurt held his hand before this whole mess. It was perfect then.

And before Puck could get a word out, Kurt was already saying something, "I'm sorry."

Those words on Kurt's lips didn't sound right; there was no reason for him to be _sorry_, well, at least when it came to Blaine and the Warblers crashing their get-together. Kurt didn't know they were coming; he was just as surprised to see the Warblers as the rest of them had been.

"Is it true? What Blaine said?" Puck asked. "There's something you're not telling me?" He took a seat on an awful floral couch that his mother kept down here so that none of her friends judged her for the horrid furniture she kept.

Kurt sighed and sat down beside him. "Yes, it's true."

Hearing that was like a swift punch to his gut and he found it a little hard to breathe. He didn't want to believe it, but it was true, and it was foolish to pretend otherwise. "He said something happened to you at McKinley that you haven't told me." It wasn't really a question, but Kurt still said yes, and he felt pain all over again. "Does it have to do with why you left?"

"It does," Kurt admitted after a long while.

Kurt expected Puck to ask him what it was that he was keeping from him, but Puck surprised him when he instead asked, "Why didn't you tell me?" He didn't ask why Kurt told Blaine instead, if Kurt felt that he could trust Blaine over him, or if he just felt closer to Blaine—he just left it at that.

"I-I…" Kurt stuttered, trying to find the right words to say. Did he not tell Puck because he didn't trust him? No, that wasn't it; he did trust Puck, especially now because he wasn't running away, wasn't telling him that he never wanted to see him again, and wasn't saying that everything they did together was one big mistake. He was here, right beside him, and that meant a whole lot to Kurt. "I guess I was afraid."

"Afraid of what?" Puck asked.

Kurt really wanted to just disappear into the ground. He was afraid that if Puck knew what Karofsky did, then he'd never talk to him again. Kurt was also fairly certain that Puck thought that they shared Kurt's first kiss with a boy, and he was scared to admit to Puck that regrettably he wasn't. Maybe it was silly to think that. "Afraid of what you'd think about me if you knew what happened, or what you'd do."

Puck looked really, really confused. He wasn't following Kurt at all. Unless Kurt killed a student (which was a completely ridiculous thought) and transferred so he could get out of going to jail or something, then Puck was pretty certain that whatever went down he wouldn't think badly about Kurt. "Uh, well, I'm not going to demand you tell me what happened. I won't even ask," he said, reaching out to take Kurt's hand in his, giving it a reassuring squeeze. Kurt told him what he wanted to know, and as far as Puck was concerned, they were golden again. "But when you're ready, I'd like to know, if you're okay with telling me."

In that moment, it was like Kurt had an epiphany. He knew that Puck was different with him than he was before, knew that Puck was no longer the tool he once was, but he never really took the time to sit down and think about how good Puck actually was to him. Puck stood up for him in ways that no one else had before, including his father. Puck made him feel safe and loved, even though at first that seemed absurd and impossible. And while he wasn't at all someone that Kurt thought he'd develop feelings for, Kurt found himself falling for him. Falling _hard_.

Before he could even attempt to hold back the words, they were already forming on his tongue, "Karofsky kissed me. He had just pushed me into the lockers for about the thousandth time, and when I ran after him to try and stand up to him, he kissed me." He paused for a moment, blinked, and two large tears rolled down his reddened cheeks. "I wanted to be honest with you guys—I really did—but I was scared, so I went to Blaine for help since he was the only other person I knew that was like me. And after Blaine tried to talk to him, things got really bad. He cornered me in the halls every chance he got and finally told me he'd kill me if I told anyone what he did to me."

_What_?

Puck had no idea what to think or how to feel and his mind was working a mile a minute. At first, none of it made any sense, but the more he placed everything together, it sort of did. He thought that Karofsky just bullied Kurt because he was a stupid homophobe, but that wasn't really the case anymore. Karofsky was a scared, confused boy, and the only way he knew how to take out all of his emotion was on someone else that was non-threatening, someone who was everything he wanted to be: confident with himself and who he was no matter what. But Karofsky also assaulted Kurt in more ways than one, and Puck was already thinking about how to go about kicking Karofsky's ass.

"Do you forgive me?" Kurt asked softly, his voice a whisper.

Puck's heart ached when he heard it. "Forgive you?" he repeated, shifting on the couch so that he was closer to Kurt, facing him. "There's…there's nothing to forgive you for, because there's no reason for you to be sorry." He wished he was better with his words, more poetic, the type that Kurt deserved. "I'm the one that should be sorry. All of us in glee should. We should have realized what was going on and done something about it." Puck really thought that he sounded like a douchebag right about then, so he goes back to his default setting of being a punk. "If Karofsky knows what's good for him, he'll make sure not to come near me."

Kurt brought his hand up and cupped the side of Puck's face. "Don't do anything stupid," he told him, his smile back, small and soft. It felt good to finally be honest with Puck after he had kept it a secret for so long. He just hoped he wouldn't regret it. "He's not worth it."

"Well, _that's_ obvious," Puck said as he leaned into Kurt's touch. "But _you _are, and I'm going to do my damn best to make sure that no one ever hurts you like that again." Puck knew that sort of thing made him sound like a puss, but he didn't really give a fuck. That was how he felt, and he wanted Kurt to know it, to really _believe _it. "Including me."

It was possible that one day he'd hurt Kurt: maybe he'd break his heart or say something awful to him during an argument, there was no way for him to know for sure what the future held for them. But Puck would put up the biggest fight known to mankind before he succumbed to any of that so he could prove to Kurt, but also to himself, that he was capable of being with and loving—_truly _loving—just one person alone.

He was ready to be faithful to someone, and he really wanted that someone to be Kurt.

What Puck said set something off in Kurt. If he knew that Puck would make him feel this way, he would have admitted the whole Karofsky situation to him forever ago. The tears that stung at the corners of his eyes were no longer ones of sadness, but ones of insurmountable _bliss_ that he never thought he'd feel because the person sitting next to him was nothing that Kurt thought he was originally, but everything he ever wanted in a man.

Without any hesitation, Kurt drew in close to Puck, pulling him in for a kiss. He didn't hold back, he wasn't timid or demure; Kurt ran his tongue across Puck's lips until they parted for him, allowing him to claim Puck's warm mouth as his own. Puck still tasted like the Skittles he ate at the laser arena, and Kurt could not get enough of the kiss. He'd never be tired of this, never not want this, and he felt very satisfied with himself when Puck moaned against his lips.

Instead of keeping his hands to himself, Kurt placed his palms against Puck's chest, sliding down the length of his toned body. Immediately, he knew that he had done something right—that Puck wanted this and wanted him—because he was easing Kurt to lay back down on the couch, climbed on top of him, and kissed him so fervently that an outsider might've thought it was their last night together.

Puck brought his mouth to the hollow of Kurt's neck, suckling at the sensitive skin there as one of his hands played at the hem of Kurt's fitted shirt before wandering up. His skin was soft and smooth to the touch, and Puck liked the way Kurt's body felt beneath him when he drew in a sharp breath before he moaned quietly into his ear. He grazed his fingernails lightly along Kurt's flesh, leaving Kurt with goose bumps, and when the rough pads of Puck's fingers gently circled his nipple, Kurt gasped and leaned into the touch.

Right about now, Puck really hated shirts and thought they only existed to block him. Kurt's tight shirt was the one thing in his way of seeing Kurt's body for himself, and Puck resented his shirt for it. He tugged frantically at the material, trying to get it to budge without ruining it as best as he could. Just when he finally got the shirt up to reveal Kurt's stomach, he felt Kurt's hand grab his and Puck stilled, pulled away from him and looked into his eyes. Maybe he went too far? Maybe he crossed some kind of boundary and now Kurt was pissed? He looked at Kurt long and hard, almost missing Kurt's small nod to proceed. "You can if you want to. I mean, it's okay with me. I don't mind," he told him shyly, his voice a little breathless.

Hell would have to freeze over completely before Puck wouldn't want to remove Kurt's top. His lips found Kurt's again as he tried to yank Kurt's top over his head without breaking apart from him, albeit unsuccessfully. When the shirt got caught just below Kurt's chin, Puck groaned against his lips and pulled away, getting Kurt's shirt off in record time. But once Kurt was topless beneath him, it was like time slowed down and the whole world stilled. He wasn't imaging this; it was actually happening. Kurt was under him, his hands on either of Puck's thighs that straddled his lithe hips. His skin was a pale, milky white, devoid of any sort of markings other than a few freckles here and there that sprinkled his chest. His nipples were small and light pink, slightly hardened from before. He wasn't muscular by any stretch of the imagination, but he was fit and toned, his skin soft and inviting.

And just _looking_ at his chest was too much.

He tried to move, tried to disguise that he went from limp to hard in what seemed like about three seconds flat like some fourteen-year-old boy who was looking at pornography for the first time in his life, but it was futile. When Puck shifted, the bulge of his crotch brushed over Kurt's thigh, causing just enough friction that almost got him to bust a nut in his pants if he wasn't so damn embarrassed. His eyes shot towards Kurt's, who looked between panicked, worried, and aroused, and even Puck knew that wasn't a good mixture. He scrambled off of Kurt's body, grabbed his shirt from the floor, and tossed it at him as he tried not to make eye contact. "Uh, um…sorry…about that."

Kurt laid there for a moment or two until his brain figured out how to work again. He sat up slowly and pulled his shirt back on over his head, keeping his eyes to the floor as his face started turning red. "It's fine. It's not your fault."

The only thing that could possibly make the situation more awkward was if Finn himself came down into the basement. Lucky for them, Finn's footsteps from above ceased about fifteen minutes ago and he was probably already asleep.

"It's just, you know, I haven't _done _anything in a while," Puck explained, swinging his fists back and forth absentmindedly as he tried to think about things that didn't involve Kurt topless. He didn't say it was because Kurt wouldn't give it up; he didn't want to pressure him. "The slightest thing and it's like…" Puck thought it'd probably be better not to finish that sentence, so he just motioned to his crotch and shrugged.

"Oh," Kurt said, his voice tiny and squeaky. He had no idea that Puck wasn't seeing other people; he hoped he wasn't, but he also didn't put it past him. He was glad that Puck wasn't facing him, because he was trying his damn hardest not to smile, and as a result, he probably looked like he was passing gas or something _real attractive _like that. "It's fine. We probably shouldn't have, uh…it's getting late anyway. We should, like, get to bed or something."

"Yeah, good idea," Puck said, nodding, his brows furrowed as he bolted up the stairs two at a time, leaving a confused Kurt in his wake.

Everything had just happened so fast, and Kurt took the stairs slow so he'd have a little bit more time to process everything. Any part of him that was still concerned about whether or not Puck's feelings were true could now be put to rest; Kurt _had_ turned Puck on, and he didn't even have to try that hard. He didn't know what to feel: he was glad that Puck was understanding and didn't pressure him into doing anything, that he was responsible enough to know when he couldn't take it anymore and when he had to stop; however, another part of Kurt, a deep, dark, lustful part of him hadn't wanted it to end. That part wanted to continue, to explore more, and didn't care where they ended up or what they did as long as Puck was still warm against him, moaning breathlessly against his skin.

Now Kurt's pants were getting uncomfortably tight.

Puck was waiting upstairs for him on the couch, tapping his feet lightly against the soft carpet. His back was facing Kurt, and he wondered what Puck was thinking about. Did he regret what happened? Was he embarrassed? Did he want more? He wanted to know, but he wasn't sure how to ask. Kurt walked over to where Puck was seated, placed a hand on his shoulder and gave it a little squeeze so Puck knew he was there.

He jumped slightly from the sudden touch and then pulled himself up from the couch. "Look, I'm really sorry," Puck told him, hanging his head a bit. "I didn't mean for any of that to happen."

Kurt shifted his weight on his feet nervously. "I, uh, I actually didn't…didn't mind it," he said, his voice shy but not at all small.

"You don't?" Puck asked incredulously.

"Well, I'm not saying we should go at it again right now. It's late, and I'm tired," Kurt told him. "But…maybe some other time?" He was certain that he sounded silly, and he knew that his face was probably so red that he looked like a tomato, but he didn't even care because Puck had a dopey smile on his face and a twinkle in his eye.

Puck loved the sound of that; he wrapped an arm around Kurt and pulled him close, trying really hard to ignore how their chests touched and how he could feel Kurt's shallow breathing on his cheeks. "Is that a promise?"

Kurt simply nodded, because his brain just refused to function anymore with Puck so close to him.

He grasped Kurt's hand in his and led him back to his bedroom, stepping over Finn who was snoring on the air mattress on the floor. Puck gave Kurt a pair of really clean pajamas that hadn't fit him for over two years because they were too small and gave him some privacy to change. When Kurt cleared his throat and Puck knew it was safe to turn back around, he yanked off his clothes, pulled on a pair of pajama bottoms, and dived into his bed, pulling Kurt in after him.

And suddenly, Puck started to feel a little self-conscious. "I hope my room is clean enough for you," he said softly as he nuzzled into the crook of Kurt's neck.

Puck's room definitely did not match the spotlessness of his own room, but it wasn't horrible. His sheets smelled like they had recently been washed, and Puck's laundry was folded. "It's fine," Kurt reassured him, turning a bit to place a small kiss on Puck's cheek.

##

The drive back to Dalton Academy was relatively uneventful. His father wanted to know in detail about the time Kurt had with his friends and the night that he and Finn spent with Puck. Kurt conveniently left out the scandalous details, reassuring his father that they simply had fun at the laser tag arena, and once they got to Puck's house, all three of them were pretty beat. He could tell that his father was suspicious, especially when Puck asked if he himself could drive Kurt back to school. That obviously didn't go over too well and the two of them didn't get a proper goodbye, but Puck promised that he'd talk to Kurt later that night and likely come by the following day, just to spend some time with him.

And things were good—_really_ good. Everything at home was golden, he had a great weekend, and things were really progressing with Puck. That made Kurt the happiest; he really enjoyed the idea that perhaps he and Puck might become an item. After last night, he was surer than ever before that Puck would make a pretty good boyfriend.

But, of course all good things have to come to an end. Once he walked into the main lobby of Dalton Academy he saw that Blaine was waiting for him, his hands behind his back, a simple smile on his face, soft eyes. Kurt's eyes locked with his for one moment, and then he tightened his jaw and took off in the direction opposite of Blaine.

"Kurt," Blaine's kind voice called out to him.

He heard fast footsteps trailing behind him. Why was Blaine doing this to him? He didn't want to have to deal with this now, not after coming off a fabulous high from a great weekend spent with people he actually really cared about. "Don't bother," Kurt said sternly, shooting a glare at Blaine from over his shoulder. "I really don't have anything to say to you right now, Blaine." It hurt him that he had to say the words; he honestly did have feelings for Blaine once, and even though they are now gone, he still wanted to be friends with him. But what Blaine did was awful, and Kurt just could not forgive him that quickly. It wasn't that easy.

"I know you don't, but I have tons of things I want to say to you," Blaine said, speeding up. "What we did was wrong."

"No, what _you_ did was wrong," Kurt corrected. He knew that the other Warblers had to agree to it otherwise they wouldn't have been there, but Kurt also knew that it was all Blaine's idea. It had to be, and the fact that Blaine didn't even consider how much it'd hurt Kurt was pretty hard to swallow, especially when Blaine knew all too well about all of the bullshit that he went through at McKinley.

Blaine broke into a run and finally caught up with Kurt. He grabbed him by his elbow and spun him around, not too harshly, but not gently, either and tilted Kurt's head up so that their eyes locked. "You're right. I was wrong, and I am sorry," he admitted in a whisper, trapping Kurt's chin between his index finger and thumb. "It was wrong, and you didn't deserve it, and neither did your friends." Blaine's hand dropped down to his side, but remained still, not taking one single step back. "I was just scared that you'd, you know, leave us and go back to them, and I didn't want that to happen."

_How selfish_. "What made you even think that I'd leave Dalton?" Kurt asked, his voice monotonous.

Blaine had about a million answers to that particular question, but he only gave Kurt the glaringly obvious one. "Because of that Puck guy," he sighed. "I know you like him."

Kurt rolled his eyes and took a step away from Blaine, tightening his grip on his shoulder bag. "Just because I like him doesn't mean I'm leaving," he said, and with that he turned away and stalked towards his dormitory.

He heard the frantic jingle of Kurt's keys like he couldn't get away fast enough as he fumbled to unlock the door. He heard the loud creak of the door when he opened it, and the forceful bang when he slammed it shut. Blaine was sure that if he was close enough, he probably could have heard Kurt re-locking the door.

And all Blaine could do was stand there, staring at the hall that Kurt nearly ran down just so that he wasn't around him anymore. Kurt's words circled around in his mind; him admitting to liking Puck, and it felt like a stab to the heart because he _knew_ that if he wasn't so afraid or cowardly, that Kurt could have been his, that he could have made Kurt smile the way that tool did. But Blaine wasn't quick enough, and now Kurt was gone.

Well, Blaine wasn't going to give up just because of that. No, Blaine knew how to fight for what he wanted.


	9. Kourtney

**Notes: **Hi everyone! Thanks so much for sticking with me for so long—a month, woo! I cannot believe I have finished nine chapters in a month. That is crazy huge for me. Anyway, in this chapter, Puck encounters a bit of trouble with his home life, Blaine tries to line up something with Kurt, and Puck sings a song. He won't be singing the entire thing because it repeats a lot and I just thought that'd be a bit tedious.

The song that Puck sings I did not write, obviously! Although I wish I had that kind of genius. Also I just thought it'd be smart of me to point out…Puck's mother talks about the Torah which is the first five books of the Hebrew Bible.

Enjoy! =)

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_**Chapter Nine—**_**Kourtney**

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When Puck stumbled into the kitchen the following morning to make something that resembled a well-rounded breakfast before he left for school, his mother was sitting at the table, waiting for him.

"Good morning, Noah," she said in a sort of troubled voice, like she's got a lot on her mind. "Please sit down."

Oh fuck. Just with that, Puck knew he was in trouble. Did Finn not listen to him and eat all the food? Puck was going to have to pummel his ass. "Okay," he said nonchalantly, pulling out a chair and literally falling into it.

His mother folded her hands together on the table and gave him a long, hard look, her mouth a thin line and her eyes sad. "Mara told me that she saw you kissing a boy the other day, Noah."

Puck knew that his mouth was hanging open slightly, that his face was probably red, and that he probably looked a little scared and confused. He hadn't even thought of the prospect that his sister might tell his mother what she saw, even though he should have because no one had a bigger mouth than Mara. And now he was in this predicament where he wanted to be honest with his mother, but didn't think he could. He remembered all those times when he was a child and he got a little too friendly with another little boy and how his mother would sit him down each and every time and recite Leviticus 18:22 to him. He couldn't remember it word for word anymore, but it had something to do with how men should not lie with other men as they do women. Basically that being gay was a sin. Well, Puck honestly thought that God didn't have a problem with him liking Kurt, so he just didn't listen to that part.

"That wasn't a dude. That was a chick, she just had short hair," Puck said. He knew that it was wrong of him to lie about that, to lie about Kurt, but he didn't think that he could be honest with his mother, at least not yet. She was all about him finding a good Jewish girl to marry; being Jewish was passed on through the woman, and if he wanted his kids to be Jewish (which he really didn't care about), then he had to marry a Jewish woman. "Mara just didn't get a close enough look. Her name is…uh…Ku—Kourtney."

His mother's brows furrowed slightly as she considered the possibility that perhaps her daughter just got her facts wrong. It wouldn't be the first time. But something about the way that her son was looking at him really made her question what he just told her. She placed her hand on top of her son's and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Maybe you should read your Torah tonight, Noah? You know, just to make sure you're on the right path."

He seriously doubted that reading the Torah was going to do him a whole lot of good. It'd probably just make him fall asleep like always. Reading pages upon pages of what Jews should and shouldn't do was not his idea of a good time. But he gave his mom a little nod and a smile just so she could be reassured that everything was fine. "Yeah, sure thing, mom," Puck said before he got up from the table, walked over to the stove, and spotted a frying pan full of scrambled eggs with cheese. "Can I have some of these?"

"Of course, honey, that's why I made so much," his mother told him pleasantly, getting up to grab a plate for him.

Puck ate his breakfast quick and in complete silence, but his mind was busy at work. His mom was a little annoying at times like every parent was, but he still loved her, and he hated lying to her. He also hated the fact that he just did not think that she would accept him for who he was; that hurt the most. He knew that Kurt was out to his dad—how did he survive that conversation? Puck had no idea how to tell his mom that the person he was kissing was really a boy, that the person he really wanted to be with was a boy, that he was certain that he'd never feel the way he felt about Kurt for anyone else ever again.

As he left the house and climbed into his car, he noticed that his eyes were stinging like they normally did right before he was about to cry.

Maybe he should talk to Kurt about all this. Maybe Kurt could help?

In order to keep his mind from reeling too much, Puck cranked up the volume of his radio and sang along to the Bad Company song that was playing. He thought of what it might be like to sing this song to Kurt one day: _Baby, when I think about you, I think about love. Darling, don't live without you and your love. _It would certainly get the point of what he was feeling across.

But when he walked through the halls towards his first class, he was back to thinking about the mess he was in. And it wasn't just what he had with his mom, but everything that was going on with Santana (she blew him a kiss in the hallway and he conveniently pretended like he didn't see it), how he hadn't told his fellow glee club about his mission that Mr. Schue gave him, how he still hadn't made any progress with getting Kurt back, and the worst of all, that Kurt still didn't know about any of it—how he thought that the only reason that Puck was interested in getting close to him in the first place was because he genuinely liked him, and not also because Mr. Schuester asked him to.

He was in deep, _deep_ shit.

And he had no idea how to get himself out of all of it without pissing everyone off.

Once he was settled into his world history class, he pulled his phone out of his back pocket, concealed it beneath his desk, and sent Kurt a text message.

_Are you able to talk? –P_

He really hoped that Kurt was available. He needed to vent; he needed advice. Puck knew he should probably come clean about everything, but he just didn't feel brave enough to do that yet. It wasn't the right time to tell Kurt _everything_; if he did it now, he would just fuck everything up.

_Yeah, what's up? –K_

What _wasn't_ up?

_Well, I wanna be honest with you about stuff, even the little things, and this is probably a little thing, but I still wanted to let you know. _God, why was he so awkward over text? _When I woke up this morning, my mom was waiting for me in the kitchen, looking all sad and junk. She said that my sister told her that she saw me kissing another guy. My mom's really religious and crap…she doesn't want me to like another dude. She'd probably make me move into our Temple or something if she found out. So, uh, I lied…I said I wasn't kissing a guy. I told her you were a chick and that your name is Kourtney. –P _

Yeah, that pretty much covered it all.

He assumed that Kurt probably didn't know how to feel about all of that, because it took him a while to text back. And that worried Puck, because he didn't want Kurt thinking that he was ashamed to be with him or something. That totally wasn't the case. If his mother wouldn't flip the fuck out, she wouldn't have even had to ask about Kurt; he would have told her a long time ago when he first started feeling something for Kurt.

_Oh, um…okay. –K_

_Really? It is? –P_

_Well, I'd rather your mom think I was actually a guy, but I understand why you did what you did. –K_

_I want her to think you're a guy, too. I don't wanna lie to her, especially about you. But like…I don't know how to tell her without her freaking out. –P_

_I can maybe give you a few pointers about how to tell your mom? –K_

Puck was seriously afraid just thinking about it. If his mother didn't accept him for who he was, then that was it. He didn't have a father to try and talk sense into his mother; he didn't have a father to tell him that one day she'll come around, he didn't have a father that would stand by his son no matter if he liked girls or guys or both. His mother was all he had, and he needed her to be okay with this.

_That would be nice. Especially since I still want to be able to make out at my house! –P_

Was it his fault that he had a one-track mind? He didn't think so.

_So do I, but…since we're being honest, there's something that I need to tell you. –K_

After Puck read that text, his heart was beating so fast that he thought he might be having a heart attack or something. He looked to his side, wondering if the chick that was sitting next to him could hear it, but she was still staring at the lecture notes on the overhead.

_Okay, shoot. –P_

_When I came back to school yesterday, Blaine was waiting for me. –K_

Puck felt his anger start to bubble up inside of him. He hated the fact that Kurt was there with _him_, the guy who obviously wanted him bad, while Puck was an hour away, virtually unable to do anything.

_What did he want? –P_

_He was basically waiting for me to apologize, but then I told him I liked you, and he didn't take that too well. –K_

He felt a sigh of relief. Good, so Kurt told the little prick off. Now maybe that Blaine kid would back off and give them some space.

_He can just get over it, then. –P_

_That's the thing. I don't think he's just going to get over it. –K_

Well, _shit._ That sounded like Blaine would still try and cockblock him, and that was something that Puck was definitely not looking forward to. Kurt ended up cockblocking him enough as it was. Puck was starting to worry if they didn't get the show on the road sometime soon that his best friend was going to shrivel up and fall off.

_Want me to come over tonight to make sure he keeps his hands to himself? –P_

_If you don't mind, I'd love to see you again, obviously. –K_

Seeing Kurt would definitely get Puck's mind off all the crap that went down that morning, so he was really glad that he said agreed to it.

_Do I have to keep my hands to myself? –P_

He knew that was probably a corny way to ask, but he really didn't care. Puck chanted _please-say-I-don't-have-to_ over in his head until Kurt texted him back.

_Puck, pay attention to your teacher. –K_

Damn. It wasn't a no, but it wasn't a yes, either. Maybe he still had a shot.

##

Kurt knew that it must be hard for Puck. He was used to regular sex; if he wanted it, he didn't have to go too far to get it. Kurt definitely did not want Puck getting it from anyone else, nor did he think that Puck would actually do that as crazy as that sounded. He wasn't ready to go all the way, but maybe part of the way? He thought he was ready for that; he _wanted _it. Last night, while nothing extraordinary happened, was just too good for him not to want more.

But Kurt was a virgin; he had no experience with anything other than kissing, and he wasn't sure how to go about any of it. Sure, he knew how to jack himself off—what guy didn't?—but beyond that? Not much. Was it different if you were jacking someone else off? How was he supposed to know what Puck liked? He couldn't just _ask _him; that would be completely humiliating. But what if he did it wrong? What if he was too rough, or not rough enough? What if he couldn't get Puck hard? He did last night, but what if tonight was a different story? What if Puck _laughed_ at him and insisted on doing it himself to save Kurt the embarrassment?

He knew what he had to do: he had to research. Not for his Literature class or French, no. His research was going to be about how to please your boyfriend. Not that him and Puck were quite boyfriends yet, but whatever. Those kinds of technicalities didn't really matter.

Peering over his shoulder, he made sure that no one could see the screen of his computer as he opened up a Google page. He took one deep breath, glanced around again, and slowly typed into the search bar "how to give a good handjob." Wait; was handjob one word or two? Whatever, it didn't really matter. Biting down nervously on his lower lip, he hovered his mouse over the Google Search button and clicked it.

Immediately, he was absolutely mortified that there was a damn YouTube video on how to give a good handjob. Really, who made stuff like that and put it on the internet where virtually any person could see it? But then Kurt supposed that he wasn't much better since the only reason he came across it was because of what he was searching. And hey, maybe the video would be helpful? But he definitely was not going to listen to it now when he was in the damn library.

Kurt clicked the least intimidating link he could find. The first thing that the website suggested was that he should ask what his guy liked, yet the page gave absolutely _no _suggestions about how to go about asking that without being completely self-conscious and ridiculous. Perhaps if he wrote down "what does your penis like?" on a small piece of paper and showed Puck it, then maybe that'd be a little better, as long as Puck wrote his answer back instead of flat out saying it. But even that would be uncomfortable; maybe he should just grow a pair, bottle up his inner sex kitten (if that part of him even existed) and just ask?

Whatever. Kurt could come back to this little predicament later.

The next suggestion was to start slow. Well, that was obvious. There was no way that Kurt was going to rip off Puck's close and start tugging on his dick like he was trying to plunge a clogged toilet. Kurt was totally fine with going slow. The page said that whenever the guy started to make "happy" noises, that he should quicken the pace. Kurt supposed that all the moaning Puck did yesterday counted as happy noises, so he'd have to pay attention for those. A couple more recommendations were to use lubricant so that things went a little smoother, as well as to make sure that Puck's cock was not the only thing he was giving attention to. That made him a little curious; if a handjob wasn't just about a guy's dick, then what else was it about? Kurt read on: _testicles_. He should have been expecting that, and he really hoped that if Puck didn't keep himself trimmed that he at least kept himself impeccably clean.

The only suggestion that the page had that worried Kurt was making eye contact. He wasn't too sure if he could do that, but apparently that got the guy really aroused. He didn't have any problems looking at Puck, he was just a little worried about if he'd be able to look at him _while doing that_.

Well, practice made perfect, he supposed.

"What are you doing?" a cheerful voice asked.

Kurt nearly jumped out of his seat, clutched his chest, and slammed his laptop closed all in the space of about two seconds. His heart was pounding and he was certain that his eyes were almost the size of tennis balls or something. Kurt put his face in his hands to conceal his flushed cheeks. "Blaine, you have got to stop creeping up on me like that. You're going to _kill_ me one of these days, and then I'll have to kill you."

"You must be pretty skilled if you could kill someone when you yourself are already dead," Blaine said, chuckling awkwardly to himself. He peered over to Kurt and saw that he didn't look all that impressed with his little joke. Blaine cleared his throat, "Uh, anyway, sorry for scaring you. Are you studying?" he asked, pointing at Kurt's laptop before he pulled out a chair and retired into it.

Kurt sighed. He really didn't want to have a conversation with Blaine right now. Blaine was still on his _I'm-really-mad-at-you-right-now-so-I'm-just-going-to-pretend-like-you-don't-exist_ list. "I guess you can say that," Kurt said nonchalantly, lifting up his laptop to store it in his satchel. "What brings you here?"

Blaine dipped his head for a moment, trying to collect his thoughts, and then looked back up at Kurt. "I know you're still upset at me, and I was hoping to maybe make it up to you by taking you out tonight," he said, and Kurt stared at him like he had three heads, so Blaine quickly added, "Not romantically or anything. I know you're off-limits. I mean as friends. You know, maybe I could show you around Westerville or something?"

Take him out to show him around Westerville? Kurt had to admit that it was a good gesture, especially if Blaine wanted to be back on his good graces. It'd be nice just to hang out with Blaine, get to know him outside of the confines of Dalton, and maybe make a friend. Kurt was still upset with him, but he too knew that he had done foolish things out of jealousy or pride, and he couldn't really fault Blaine too much for it.

Maybe Kurt should just forgive Blaine? It was a hassle being upset with someone, and he knew that Blaine knew that what he did was wrong. Would it be such a bad thing, to forgive Blaine? Kurt definitely wouldn't trust him again right off the bat, and he'd have to make sure that Blaine kept his distance, but they could be friends, couldn't they? They did have a lot in common, and they did get along pretty well whenever Blaine wasn't being creepy.

"I can't tonight," Kurt told him at long last. "I've already made plans."

"Oh okay," Blaine said, nodding weakly.

"But maybe some other time?" Kurt offered. "I mean, it'd be nice to get out of school and just hang out…as friends." And as he was offering, he started to wonder if this was even something that Puck would be okay with—him hanging out with Blaine. It wasn't a big deal, right?

Blaine's smile was wide and charming. "I'd like that. Just let me know when you're available," he said before he got up from the table, announced how he was going to be late for his physics class if he didn't get a move on, and waved goodbye.

And as Blaine walked to his next class, he felt victorious that he finally found a way to steal Kurt from Puck, at least for one night. And that one night, Blaine would be on his best behavior, show Kurt what being a true gentleman was, and all he was missing.

Blaine had said they'd just go as friends, but at the end of the night, he was hoping that that would change.

##

Puck was so used to visiting Kurt at Dalton that he knew exactly which parking lot was the closest to Kurt's dorm room. There were usually always good parking spots this late in the day; all the teachers and visitors had previously left for the night and only the upperclassmen were allowed cars. Puck was sure that one day he was going to get a ticket since he didn't have the little hangtag that was required to park, but whatever. He had talked himself out of paying parking tickets before, and he could do it again.

He found a spot that he was satisfied with and pulled in, shifting gears before he killed the engine. He grabbed his guitar case that he had propped up on the seat beside him and his bag before headed towards the school, nearly running because he was so excited to see Kurt again.

Knowing that he was going to be alone with Kurt, Puck wanted to make the most of their time together. Kurt had already finished his homework and Puck hardly ever did his, so they had the whole night. He used his whole geometry class to prepare something really romantic for Kurt, and then he ran his ideas by Tina.

"When you and Mike are on dates and stuff," Puck started, hoping he merely sounded mildly curious and not like he was up to something. "Does he ever sing to you?"

Tina looked up at Puck, her expression a little blank. "Well, he never used to because he was really self-conscious about his voice, but now that he's a bit more confident, he sings to me every now and then."

"And you like it, right?" Puck asked.

"Yeah, I love when Mike sings to me," Tina told him, a dazed look on her face and she was off in some dream land for a moment or two until she came back to reality. "Why are you asking?"

Puck shook his head. "No reason."

He had what he was sure was the perfect song picked out to sing to Kurt. It summed up everything he was feeling, but wasn't too sure how to say because he just didn't have a way with words. And because of that, he was pretty nervous. He didn't want anything to go wrong; what if he forgot part of the lyrics, or was sharp or flat? What if he forgot the chords? What if Kurt hated the song?

In the midst of all the anxiety, Puck realized that he had it bad for Kurt. _Really bad_. He needed to calm down before he lost his cool.

The annoying thing about Dalton was that the school was a couple stories tall. The staircases were winding, and Puck tended to get a little dizzy on them when he took them too quickly. Why couldn't they be normal stairs like they one McKinley had; straight up and down? Kurt's dorm room was located on the third floor, and Puck was sure to take his time so he didn't blow chunks over the banister. His stomach already felt like it was being forced through a meat grinder.

When he reached the top of the third floor, he hung a left. Kurt's room was only a couple of doors down; he counted the dormitories as he passed them, his heart pounding so hard that he could feel the beats in his neck and temples. Without knowing what else to do, Puck shot up a quick prayer to God, asking for everything to go off without a hitch and promising that he'd really try to do well in geometry for real this time if God followed through.

He took a deep breath, reached out and knocked on Kurt's door. He was glad that Kurt answered immediately, because if he had to stand around and wait, Puck probably would have passed out or something.

When he saw how happy Kurt looked to see him, everything seemed to fall back into place and Puck breathed a sigh of relief. He watched as Kurt's eyes ran up and down his frame, and Puck was really glad that he wore his best jeans, a tight black long-sleeved shirt, and his letterman's jacket. "You look really good," Kurt whispered before he grabbed hold of Puck's jacket, pulled him close, and caught Puck's lips in a searing kiss. The chapstick on Kurt's lips tasted like honeydew, and Puck wondered if it was new because he had never noticed it before now. One of Kurt's hands wrapped around his neck while the other rested on Puck's hipbone, pulling him closer as Kurt nipped his lower lip with his teeth. Puck slid his hand down Kurt's slender back slowly till he reached the small of his back. Pushing up Kurt's shirt, he smoothed his palm across Kurt's soft skin before his hand traveled down just a bit further, gliding over Kurt's round cheek before he squeezed.

Kurt released a cry that was muffled against Puck's lips and pulled away from the kiss. "We're still standing in my doorway," he whispered, his nose touching Puck's.

"Are you going to invite me in?" Puck asked, brushing his lips briefly over Kurt's cheek.

"What? Oh, yeah…" Kurt said, flushing a little as he took a step to the side and held the door open for Puck. "What's with the guitar?" Kurt asked, pointing to the case that he hadn't noticed before because he was too busy kissing Puck.

Puck put his guitar case down on the floor, and out of nowhere the nerves came back. He ran his hand along his short mohawk before he awkwardly swung his fists back and forth at his sides. "I, uh…I kind of wanted to sing to you."

That wasn't what Kurt was expecting. Run something new for glee club by him? Sure. But not actually singing a song _to_ him. Kurt's whole face felt like it was on fire. "Oh, uh…you want to now?"

"Sure," Puck blurted out before he could take the words back. But maybe it was a good thing? The sooner he sang for Kurt, the sooner he'd start to feel normal again. "Why don't you sit on your bed, and I'll uh…I'll sit over here." He pointed to the chair on the other side of the small room.

Puck hauled his case into his lap, undid the latches, and pulled out his guitar. He tuned it before he came over, but strummed the strings just to make sure that it still sounded the way it was supposed to before he threw the strap over his shoulder and got comfortable. When he looked up, he saw that Kurt was sitting on the edge of his bed, anxious and excited.

"I knew I wanted to sing something to you," Puck admitted, absentmindedly tapping his foot against the floor of Kurt's dorm room. "But I didn't know what to sing; didn't know what song was _good enough_. And then this song came on my iTunes when I was trying to do my homework the other day, and I knew that song was it." His heartbeat and Kurt's steady breathing was all he could hear. "There's never really been anyone in my life, not even Quinn, that I felt like I loved because I _wanted _to, not because I felt like I had to or something. But…I think you may be changing that."

Kurt looked surprised; his eyes wide and his lips parted with a faint smile playing at them. Puck strummed the opening chords, his fingers effortlessly gliding over the notes, humming quietly, his foot tapping away to the tempo before he began to sing, his voice clear and soft.

_Today is gonna be the day that they're gonna throw it back to you. By now you should've somehow realized what you gotta do. I don't believe that anybody feels the way I do about you now. _

He chanced a glance at Kurt; his expression virtually unreadable and Puck wondered if he's ever heard this song before. Perhaps he had and never thought of it as a true love song? Because it wasn't just one of those songs that spoke about how love makes you feel like you're flying, like you can do anything.

This was different—real.

_Backbeat the word is on the street that the fire in your heart is out. I'm sure you've heard it all before, but you've never really had a doubt. I don't believe that anybody feels the way I do about you now._

He wondered—hoped—that Kurt believed him through the lyrics of the song.

_And all the roads we have to walk are winding, and all the lights that lead us there are blinding. There are many things that I would like to say to you, but I don't know how._

If they were going to be together—actually together—it would take constant work. Not just because Puck wasn't exactly the easiest person to be in a relationship with, but because they also would have to deal with punks like Karofsky and Azimio that thought that they shouldn't be able to be happy together, and people like his mom who thought that they were sinners just because one of them wasn't a girl. They would have to work at being strong together every day, maybe every hour or minute if times got real rough, but Puck was ready for all that.

_Because maybe you're going to be the one that saves me, and after all, you're my wonderwall. _

Puck felt like with Kurt, he could be better; better at school, better at not talking back, better at not getting into fights, and better at just being a _man_. He knew that Kurt probably deserved better than everything he had to offer. Puck wasn't an extraordinary catch compared to some other guys. But what Puck was feeling for Kurt he felt with his whole heart. He was ready to lay down everything for Kurt: his time, his reputation, the walls he had built up around him; tough exterior he crafted over the years that kept him safe from harm. He didn't need it anymore, nor did he want it. But Puck wanted Kurt; not just to shoot the shit with when he got bored and wanted a nice pair of lips to kiss. No, he wanted this to be real, not just a fling, not just something they used to occupy their time. Puck wanted to know what it was like to maybe be in love with someone, to have the official title of _boyfriend_. He hoped for a day when he didn't need an excuse to come see Kurt other than just wanting to simply see him because any time apart was damn near torturous. And yeah, he knew that meant that he had to be vulnerable, that he might get hurt, that he might be broken down to _nothing_, but he was willing to take that chance.

Noah Puckerman, bonified ladies' man and chick magnet was actually wanted a real relationship. Not because he thought he should, but because he genuinely desired it.

And when he looked back up at Kurt, his eyes were stinging like they had that morning.

* * *

**Notes: **:D? Sorry to end it there! But I do come bringing good news~

For those of you who have been waiting for the slash scenes to _finally_ start, it's coming next chapter. So, you don't have to wait too long! Yay! And hopefully chapter 10 will be up very soon so long as the winter storm that's going on throughout the Midwest doesn't knock out my power!


	10. Goodbye Dry Spell

**Notes: **Hello guys! I am sorry this took me a while to get up. I don't even know how many times I've re-written this; it took forever for me to work this chapter into something I actually liked. I hope this was worth the wait.

Anyway yay, chapter ten! Thanks for sticking with me and my little story so long! In this chapter, you'll get the slash I promised! Sadly, it's just a little taste; I still intend on taking things a little on the slow side with Kurt and Puck, but now things are finally going in that direction. Also, Artie is in this chapter! I love Puck and Artie's friendship. It's my favorite one on the show (along with Kurt/Mercedes/Rachel). Puck goes to Artie for some help, and Artie steers him in the right direction. Oh, and Kurt spends some time with that Blaine kid. Yep.

Sooo, Dalton isn't a boarding school. WHO KNEW? I mean, all of the Kurt scenes are of him at Dalton; it's like he never leaves the place. Anyway, I am not going to change things, because that would probably be awkward. Kurt's still going to stay at Dalton during the weekdays like always, but come to Lima on the weekends.

Enjoy!

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_**Chapter Ten**_**—Goodbye Dry Spell**

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* * *

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Kurt's breathing was quick and shallow; did that really just happen? Did Puck actually just sing that song for him, a song about possible love, how Kurt could be the one to save him from his demons—from himself? So, this was serious; Puck wasn't just playing with him, didn't just want something on the side to cure him of his boredom.

What Kurt was feeling now was nothing short of amazing. To actually know, without a shadow of doubt, that the person you liked really liked you back and wanted you just as much as you wanted him had to be the best thing in the world—Kurt was sure of it. His heart felt like it was much too big for his chest and his mind felt numb.

"Did you hate it?" Puck asked hesitantly in a quiet voice when Kurt still hadn't said anything. "Was I out of tune?"

"No," Kurt said softly, slowly drawing up from his bed to walk across the room. He stood right in front of Puck, held Puck's chin in between his thumb and index finger, and eased Puck to look into his eyes. Kurt was never really the type to talk up how fabulous other people's performances were with the exception of Mercedes, but since Puck opened up to him, he figured he could open up to Puck. "I loved it. You sounded amazing. You're always great with your guitar."

Puck placed his guitar down on the floor and brought his hand to rest on Kurt's hip, pulling him to stand in between Puck's parted legs. "You really think so?"

Kurt allowed his fingertip to run down the column of Puck's thick, muscular neck, across his collarbone, and down his shoulder, loving the way that Puck shivered beneath his lingering touch. "I do," Kurt told him before he bent at the middle and placed his lips gently on Puck's, kissing him affectionately yet with fervor, and Puck's hand that was on Kurt's hip reached up the length of his body to wrap around Kurt's neck, trying to pull him closer.

No matter how much Puck liked getting laid, he was pretty sure that he liked kissing Kurt more. He wasn't even sure what it was about kissing him that he liked so much; maybe it was the way that Kurt always fumbled with his hands like he wasn't sure what to do with them, or how soft his lips were like they had never ever been kissed before, or the way that Kurt always leaned in close to Puck, his body warm and inviting, or how out of everyone that Puck's kissed, this actually felt real and significant.

It was probably all of the above, plus the hundred other reasons Puck had come up with.

"If only you knew the things you do to me," Puck breathed against Kurt's lips when they broke apart, his fingers twirling the hair at the nape of Kurt's neck.

"They're good things, right?" Kurt asked, sliding Puck's letterman jacket off his shoulders and away from his body. Acting out of impulse, Kurt lowered himself onto Puck's lap, straddling him at the waist before he rocked his body against Puck's groin, drawing a strangled moan out of Puck.

"You have no idea," Puck said, his voice rough and low as he clutched Kurt's hips to still him. "Which is why we should stop." Puck wanted this for sure, but he knew that Kurt wanted to take things slow.

Kurt looked up at him through his thick lashes; his cheeks flushed a dull red. "But what if I don't want to?" he asked in a demure tone, his fingers fiddling with the hemline of Puck's t-shirt to brush over his heated flesh.

Puck's mouth flew open and his breath started coming in quick little pants. "What? Really?" was all he could manage to ask because he couldn't believe that this was happening.

Kurt took a deep breath before he allowed his hand to drop down to the button of Puck's jeans, causing both of them to inhale sharply. "Unless you don't want to?" Kurt asked. He knew that wasn't the case; Puck wanted this if his erection pressing against Kurt's thigh was proof enough.

He almost laughed, and probably would have if Kurt didn't wiggle his body against him again, causing enough friction to make Puck's head spin.

"That's what I thought," Kurt mused, sounding incredibly confident. And he kind of was right now; sure, he didn't really know what he was doing, but Puck definitely wasn't complaining, and that was good enough for him. With tentative hands, Kurt grabbed at the hem of Puck's shirt and slowly pulled it up over his head, dropping it to the ground.

Puck shivered slightly when the cool air of the room touched his bare skin, and even more when Kurt placed his hands on his chest. The way Kurt's hands felt against his flesh was so different than Santana's ever did, or Quinn's even. The touches were light, slightly hesitant and timid; just the tips of Kurt's fingers grazed over his skin, making him tingle. Kurt was looking at him with wide, dark eyes, like he could do this for hours, and when his gentle touch danced over Puck's pierced nipple, his hips jerked forward.

The corners of Kurt's lips turned up. "Do you like this?" he asked after he gathered up his confidence, circling his fingertips over the rising darkened bud again, slower this time.

Puck's jaw looked like it was about to detach from the rest of his face. He tried to speak, but his mouth and tongue were as dry as a desert, so the only sounds that he managed were along the lines of rough, strangled groans. He settled on nodding his head zealously, hoping that got the message across loud and clear as he leaned into the warmth of Kurt's searching hands.

Tilting his head down, Kurt placed kisses down the hollow of Puck's neck, across his collarbone till his lips pressed against his smooth chest. Kissing Puck's body was so intimate, and it seemed like it ought to be illegal since Kurt was enjoying it so much. All of the sounds Puck made and the way his muscles twitched excitedly beneath his lips made Kurt's whole body feel like it was lit up like a Christmas tree. As his lips edged down further, Kurt felt Puck's hand that was rested against the small of his back reach down to squeeze his ass before it traveled around his waist to the front of Kurt's pants. And just as Kurt poked his tongue out, swirling it around Puck's hardened nipple, Puck moaned against the crook of Kurt's neck as he popped open the button of Kurt's jeans.

"Bed?" Puck asked, his voice hoarse as he ran his tongue along the sensitive skin of Kurt's neck.

Kurt nodded, moving to stand, but before he could get up from Puck's lap, Puck scooped him up, Kurt's legs still wrapped around his waist as he carried him over to the small bed. Kurt was surprisingly light in his arms; his body molding against Puck's like Kurt was made for him. Puck stumbled over a couple of random things on Kurt's floor—his satchel and a couple of his text books—but managed to finally make it to the bed before he gently lowered Kurt onto it.

Puck crawled onto the bed after Kurt, hovering over him as his hands found the buttons of Kurt's shirt, trying to undo them so quickly that his fingers fumbled. "Your Dalton uniform is cockblocking me," Puck said before he finally managed to pop open all the buttons, pulling the sleeves away from Kurt's body. He slid his hands down the smooth plane of Kurt's chest till he stopped at the waistband of his pants.

He bit down softly on his lower lip and looked up into Kurt's eyes. "Are you sure about this?"

Kurt stared at him for a moment. He was sure—he was surer than sure—he was _positive_ that this was what he wanted. He really liked Puck, and while he wasn't quite ready for everything, he was ready for _something_, or he might literally burst just like Puck was about to. "Yeah," Kurt breathed, lifting his hips up as he reached down and undid the front of Puck's pants.

Puck felt like he could bust a nut just from that one word, but luckily, he had more than an ounce of self-control. He wanted to make this night memorable—make it _perfect_—and coming before their party even got started would definitely be uncool. Taking a deep breath, Puck placed his hand at the front of Kurt's pants, rubbing his palm over the growing bulge, and Kurt writhed beneath him, and airy little whine escaping his pink parted lips.

When he pulled down Kurt's zipper, it was like time slowed and all he could hear was the sliding of the zipper, his heartbeat pounding in his ears, and Kurt's quick breathing. Puck worked Kurt's pants down, his eyes immediately darting to Kurt's tight briefs. He swallowed hard; Puck might have been well-versed in sex with chicks, but with dudes—well, that was another story, and he was probably just as nervous about fucking it all up as Kurt was. But Puck could do this; after all he had managed to turn Kurt on enough that he was squirming on his bed with anticipation without even really touching him. He could definitely do more to make Kurt feel even better.

But before Puck could do anything, Kurt's hands were back on him. Kurt's fingers laced through his belt buckles, tugging at them until they fell down around Puck's bent knees. He laughed when he saw that Puck's boxers were plaid—he always figured that when it came to undergarments, Puck was probably a simple guy if he even wore underwear at all.

Still half-dressed, Puck cupped Kurt's cheek with his calloused hand, looking right into his beautiful eyes that Puck still had issues with figuring out what color they were. And Puck wondered if this was what true intimacy was; where it wasn't all about hurrying up to get down with each other but the feelings and emotions that two people shared when they truly cared about one another, and finally getting close, _so close_, once the time was right.

But now, despite feeling certain that now was the right time, Puck didn't want to rush things. Before he got to Dalton, he had planned the night out in his head: sing the song, get Kurt to fall for him through his suave voice and badass guitar skills, and then give him a blowjob—and not just any old one, but an _epic_ one or some shit.

Whenever Puck was with a girl, whether it lasted a couple weeks or a couple days, things always ended up going downhill after they had sex. He knew it wasn't because he was bad in bed or anything, but maybe rushing things really wasn't the best thing to do when you wanted a real relationship. The only way Puck would be certain that he wasn't fucking things up with Kurt was by taking it slow. But he still was going to get off tonight, because he was sure if he didn't, he'd die or worse.

Puck kicked off his jeans the rest of the way, pulling Kurt's off in the process before he leaned down and slid the length of his warm body against Kurt's; the friction making Puck practically whine and shiver. Kurt's body was soft save for what was in between his legs. Puck thrust his hips up so that his erection brushed over Kurt's again, and it felt so good that Puck was almost expecting to see the face of God smiling down at him for finally getting some after he had been a good boy for so long.

"Faster," Kurt practically begged, his voice breathy and high-pitched. His head dug into the pillow as he lifted his hips up off the bed towards Puck, rocking his groin against Puck's in quick, rough, uneven movements as his hands gripped Puck's muscular shoulders. Through his squinted eyes, he could see that Puck's muscles were tense, his chest glistened with a gentle sheen of sweat, his eyes dark and wide and his lips parted. Kurt felt a spot of moisture spreading on the front of his briefs; Puck was hot and throbbing against him, and even though a layer of cloth separated them, Kurt could still _feel _it, and every time Puck thrust up against him, Kurt's cock thudded with his accelerated heartbeat as jolts of electricity seemed to shoot through his veins and his muscles started to spasm.

As Puck smoothed his palms over Kurt's chest, he managed to wiggle his thigh in between Kurt's legs, grinding against him at a different angle—a better one—and for a moment, Kurt was certain that they were out of their undergarments due to how Puck's body heat seemed to transfer over to him. Every twitch of Puck's he felt, and he was certain that he could feel the throb of Puck's cock all the way down into his bones. Kurt spread his thighs a little further, granting Puck a bit more room to play with, and pressed against Puck like he was trying to melt into his body.

Puck leaned down, swiped his tongue across Kurt's neck before he sucked the sensitive skin, and in one well-placed thrust of his hips, Kurt's body tensed, feeling like he was on fire as he cried out, his mouth wide open and his eyes unfocused.

When Puck felt a slightly warm wetness spread between them, he smirked against Kurt's neck before he placed a small kiss there. He definitely still had his irresistible sex moves—and a boner; which might have explained why once Kurt finally came down off his high, he reached down in between them, his hand slipping past the waistband of Puck's boxers. It was like everything was moving in slow motion: Kurt's gentle touch, how Puck's eyes shot toward him, his face a little blank, and Kurt had a sly little grin on his pretty lips.

Kurt still didn't have any idea what he was doing; he just went off his instincts and hoped Puck would like it. His hand reached down until he found Puck's heated flesh and they both inhaled sharply. Kurt stretched his fingers to wrap around Puck's shaft and slowly stroked. Had Puck literally not been suffering from blue balls for far too long in his opinion, he probably would have lasted longer. But as it were, Puck groaned into the crook of Kurt's neck, spurting his release into his hand as his body shook.

And damn, did it feel good to finally have a big O after all this time.

Kurt eased himself up to place soft kisses to Puck's cheek as he tried to steady his breathing. He always worried that he'd feel strange after being intimate with someone; like he was tainted or dirty especially after everything that happened with Karofsky, but the only thing he felt was bliss, even though his hand wasn't clean.

Puck handed Kurt a tissue before he collapsed next to him on his small bed, wrapping his arm around Kurt's waist to pull him close.

"Now we have laundry to do," Kurt sighed, snuggling into Puck's chest.

"Yeah, and it was totally worth it," Puck said, brushing Kurt's hair out of his face. Kurt kissed Puck one last time before he pushed himself up from the bed, grabbed his robe, and tightened it around his body. "Where are you going?"

Kurt motioned at the lower half of his body. "I need to take a shower."

"Can I come?" Puck asked, waggling his eyebrows.

Kurt was out of the door before he was able to answer Puck, giggling the whole way down the hallway toward the community showers.

Damn. That was probably a no.

##

When Puck walked into the choir room the next day, the first person he saw was Mr. Schuester. A huge lump formed out of nowhere in the back of Puck's throat, and his pulse is beating like a gong. Silent, Mr. Schuester shot Puck a questioning glance as if to ask _have you done it yet—is he coming back now? _Puck looked down at his feet, back up at Mr. Schuester, and then down again, shaking his head no as he stuffed his fists into his pockets.

Mr. Schuester didn't look impressed in the slightest. Puck seriously wished he'd cut him some slack. He was trying as best he could, but getting Kurt to come back was never going to be an easy task, especially since Karofsky still went to McKinley. Puck wasn't sure if his heart was in this anymore.

But he gave Mr. Schuester his word, and backing out would just make him look weak.

Puck needed some help; doing this on his own just wasn't working out. He thought of enlisting Finn first since Finn already knew about the mess he was in, but he didn't trust Finn not to screw everything up. Finn was his boy, but he wasn't always dependable or trustworthy, and that's the type of friend Puck needed right now.

Which is why he confronted Artie after glee rehearsal.

"You got a minute, dude?" Puck asked, pulling up a chair beside Artie.

Artie's brows rose up from behind his thick black glasses. They were friends, sure, but Puck never approached him like this before, all nervous and fidgety, and Artie started to wonder if he got another girl pregnant. "Yeah, sure."

"I need help. I'm gonna tell you something," Puck admitted, his voice quiet and serious. "But you gotta promise that you won't tell anyone else. No one can know what I am gonna tell you."

"What the hell?" Artie asked, leaning back a little in his wheelchair, his face a little scrunched up, looking at Puck like he just grew another head. "Are you feeling okay?"

"Just promise," Puck demanded frantically, glancing over his shoulder to make sure that no one was lingering around outside of the choir room.

Artie's face softened, realizing that something was seriously bothering Puck. He nodded. "I promise."

Puck took a deep breath and explained the whole situation: the mission Mr. Schuester gave him, how Puck agreed to it, that he basically saw Kurt every day since then, and that Kurt didn't know about any of it. "And the worst part of it all," Puck continued, massaging his temples with his fingertips. "Is that I actually really like Kurt now…and not just…as a friend."

For a while, Artie was completely silent, staring at Puck with a blank expression. "It's not April yet," Artie said.

"What?" Puck asked. "No, I'm telling you the truth, man. I really like him, and I don't know what to do about any of this."

Artie noticed that Puck's legs were bouncing up and down out of nerves, his eyes wide, a little fearful and desperate. It didn't make any sense; Puck was always into chicks and sex, but Puck didn't look like he was fooling around. "Are you sure?"

"_Yeah_, dude," Puck said. He cracked his knuckles and relaxed back into his chair. "This all didn't _just _start, me liking him, I mean. I kinda have for a while." He stared down at his hands in his lap and shrugged his shoulders, a small smile playing at his lips as he remembered last night. "I mean, it's _his _fault for wearing those tight pants all the time."

Artie held his hand up in front of Puck's face as if to say that he didn't need any more details on that front. "It's okay, I get it, I think." Artie tried to keep an open mind about this all. Puck was his friend, his _best _friend maybe, and he knew how much guts Puck had to have to come to him about this. Artie clasped his hands together and rested them in his lap. "You said you needed my help?"

Puck nodded. "Yeah, I don't know how to get Kurt to come back."

"What?" Artie asked, his voice a little high-pitched, sounding incredulous. "That's not what you should be worried about right now."

"Then what is?" Puck asked. Learning how to perform a proper blowy? Figuring out how to _really _get into Kurt's pants? Stocking up on condoms?

Artie rolled his eyes behind his glasses. "You need to be _honest_ with Kurt. You need to tell him about what Mr. Schuester asked you to do."

Oh fuck, not that. "I can't."

"Look," Artie said, pausing to take a deep breath to make sure that his words came out the right way. "I saw Tina walk down the halls holding Mike's hand when I thought we were still together. She never told me; I had to confront her, and it probably would've hurt a lot less if she was just upfront about it in the first place instead of letting me find out the hard way."

"But he'll hate me," Puck said in a small voice.

Artie shrugged. "It'll be worse if he finds out from someone else."

Puck knew Artie was right. If Mercedes told Kurt, or Finn, or God forbid that Blaine kid found out and spilled the beans, then he was pretty sure Kurt would never forgive him. He had to do it soon before things got really serious between him and Kurt, even if that meant he would never truly get his mack on with Kurt.

"I guess you're right," Puck finally said. "Wanna help me figure out how I should tell him?"

"You got it," Artie said, high-fiving Puck.

##

Blaine had shown Kurt the nearby parts of Westerville; a bowling alley that hardly anyone went to anymore unless it was during the weekend, a restaurant that reminded Kurt of Breadstix, and a little coffee shop that the students at Dalton often studied at when they wanted to get away from campus. It was nice to be away; to not have to worry about homework, lectures, or rehearsals, and Kurt did like spending time with Blaine despite everything. They were very alike; two sides of the same coin, except for Blaine liking football and not caring as much about fashion as Kurt did.

As they headed back to campus, Kurt idly wondered what it would have been like if he and Blaine actually dated. He did like him once, or at least had a silly schoolboy crush on him, but now the possibility of a relationship seemed inconceivable. Kurt needed Blaine to be his friend more than anything else, and finally realizing that now was probably a damn good thing since he was growing closer and closer to Puck.

However, Blaine didn't seem to be so convinced that they had already had their time to make something happen and that it was now too late, because as they were walking back into the lobby of the school, he reached out and took Kurt's hand in his.

Kurt's eyes darted to Blaine as he tried to wiggle his hand free. "Blaine, don't do this."

But Blaine wasn't letting go any time soon. "Why not? We're friends, are we not?" he asked suavely. His hand was warm like Puck's and it made Kurt's stomach twist uncomfortably. "Mercedes is your friend and you hold her hand sometimes. Why can't we do the same?"

"Because this is different, and you know it," Kurt told him, rolling his eyes as he yanked his hand from Blaine's grasp, crossing his arms quickly over his chest. He wasn't a fan of double standards, but it _was_ different with Blaine. Mercedes didn't try to come onto him like Blaine sometimes did.

"Different how?" Blaine asked, moving so that he was standing in front of Kurt, looking right into his eyes, his head tilted up a bit. "Because you're afraid that you might fall for me because I'm an actual gentleman who can treat you right?"

Kurt didn't answer right away; he was furious and admittedly a bit confused. Was Puck a gentleman? Not really, but Kurt also wasn't too sure if Blaine was the gentleman he said he was. "No, because you like me, and I don't feel the same for you," Kurt finally said, and he meant every word. It didn't bother him too much that Puck was probably never going to be the guy who brought him flowers on Valentine's Day, or slow danced with him, or shared a romantic candlelit dinner with him, but Kurt still liked him anyway. Kurt didn't want to change who Puck was. "You need to accept the fact that I've moved on now and I'm with someone else."

Blaine stood there, his mouth agape and his eyes wide, holding his breath for a moment. "Officially?" Blaine asked, his voice so small and soft, like a scared little whisper.

"Not quite," Kurt said, shrugging his shoulders. Puck technically hadn't asked him out yet, but Kurt was really hoping that that was just right around the corner.

"Then I don't see what the problem is," Blaine said, taking a step closer so that Kurt could feel Blaine's breath on his cheeks.

Kurt sighed and walked towards the school. "The problem is that I don't want to be with you anymore, Blaine," he shot back over his shoulder. He thought that his words might be harsh, but he hoped that they would suffice and Blaine would finally get the hint and take a hike.

"When are you seeing Puck next?" Blaine called out, following Kurt into the school.

"I am not too sure, why?" Kurt huffed, not thinking that it was any of Blaine's business.

Blaine grinned. "Might want to keep it that way; we have mandatory Warblers rehearsal tomorrow night."

Kurt shrugged, not thinking it was such a big deal. Even though he'd miss Puck, he could survive a night without him.

"And every other night for the rest of this week," Blaine added.

* * *

_Notes:_ Little info about next chapter-Puck finds out about Blaine's new scheduling for Warblers rehearsal and does something about it.


End file.
